I 


THE  AMATEUR 
CRACKSMAN 


RAFFLES. 


THE  AMATEUR 
CRACKSMAN 


BY 

E.    W.    HORNUNG 


ILLUSTRATED   BY 
F.    C.    YOHN 


CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 
NEW    YORK::::::::::::::i907 


^  ■  /  Copyright,' 1902,- BY". 
CrfAkLES  S'CRIBI^f fcR'S  SONS 


1. 

1 


TO 

A.    C.   D. 

THIS    FORM    OF    FLATTERY 


*-^^- 


CONTENTS 


The  Ides  of  March 

Page 
I 

A  Costume  Piece     ...■=. 

.             .             .       36 

Gentlemen  and   Players      . 

.             .             .       65 

Le  Premier  Pas        .... 

.     97 

Wilful  Murder          .... 

.    124 

Nine  Points  of  the  Law  . 

.    149 

The  Return  Match 

.    177 

The  Gift  of  the  Emperor           . 

.   204 

ILLUSTRATIONS 


Raffles   .......  Frontispiece 

Facing 

page 

I  saw  them  from  my  own  window        .  .  .  '94 

Raffles  announced  his  intention  of  catching  the  3.2  to  E^her   160 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 


The  Ides  of  March 


I 


IT  was  half-past  twelve  when  I  returned  to  the 
Albany  as  a  last  desperate  resort.  The  scene 
of  my  disaster  was  much  as  I  had  left  it.  The  bac- 
carat-counters still  strewed  the  table,  with  the 
empty  glasses  and  the  loaded  ash-trays.  A  window 
had  been  opened  to  let  the  smoke  out,  and  was  let- 
ting in  the  fog  instead.  Raffles  himself  had  merely 
discarded  his  dining  jacket  for  one  of  his  innumer- 
able blazers.  Yet  he  arched  his  eyebrows  as 
though  I  had  dragged  him  from  his  bed. 

"Forgotten  something?"  said  he,  when  he  saw 
me  on  his  mat. 

"No,"  said  I,  pushing  past  him  without  cere- 
mony. And  I  led  the  way  Into  his  room  with  an 
impudence  amazing  to  myself. 

"Not  come  back  for  your  revenge,  have 
you?     Because  I'm  afraid  I  can't  give  it  to  you 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

single-handed.  I  was  sorry  myself  that  the 
others -" 

We  were  face  to  face  by  his  fireside,  and  I  cut 
him  short. 

"Raffles,"  said  I,  "you  may  well  be  surprised  at 
my  coming  back  in  this  way  and  at  this  hour.  I 
hardly  know  you.  I  was  never  in  your  rooms  be- 
fore to-night.  But  I  fagged  for  you  at  school,  and 
you  said  you  remembered  me.  Of  course  that's  no 
excuse;  but  will  you  listen  to  me  —  for  two 
minutes?" 

In  my  emotion  I  had  at  first  to  struggle  for 
every  word ;  but  his  face  reassured  me  as  I  went  on, 
and  I  was  not  mistaken  in  its  expression. 

"Certainly,  my  dear  man,"  said  he;  "as  many 
minutes  as  you  like.  Have  a  Sullivan  and  sit 
down."  And  he  handed  me  his  silver  cigarette- 
case. 

"No,"  said  I,  finding  a  full  voice  as  I  shook  my 
head;  "no,  I  won't  smoke,  and  I  won't  sit  down, 
thank  you.  Nor  will  you  ask  me  to  do  either  when 
you've  heard  what  I  have  to  say." 

"Really?"  said  he,  lighting  his  own  cigarette 
with  one  clear  blue  eye  upon  me.  "How  do  you 
know?" 

"Because  you'll  probably  show  me  the  door,"  I 
cried  bitterly ;  "and  you  will  be  justified  in  doin^;  it ! 

2 


The  Ides  of  March 

But  it's  no  use  beating  about  the  bush.    You  know 
I  dropped  over  two  hundred  just  now?" 

He  nodded. 

"I  hadn't  the  money  in  my  pocket." 

"I  remember." 

"But  I  had  my  check-book,  and  I  wrote  each  of 
you  a  check  at  that  desk." 

"Well?" 

"Not  one  of  them  was  worth  the  paper  it  was 
written  on,  Raffles.  I  am  overdrawn  already  at 
my  bank!" 

"Surely  only  for  the  moment?" 

"No.     I  have  spent  everything." 

"But  somebody  told  me  you  were  so  well  off. 
I  heard  you  had  come  in  for  money?" 

"So  I  did.  Three  years  ago.  It  has  been  my 
curse;  now  it's  all  gone — every  penny!  Yes,  I've 
been  a  fool ;  there  never  was  nor  will  be  such  a  fool 
as  I've  been.  .  .  .  Isn't  this  enough  for  you? 
Why  don't  you  turn  me  out?"  He  was  walking 
up  and  down  with  a  very  long  face  instead. 

"Couldn't  your  people  do  anything?"  he  asked 
at  length. 

"Thank  God,"  I  cried,  "I  have  no  people!  I 
tvas  an  only  child.  I  came  in  for  everything  there 
was.  My  one  comfort  Is  that  they're  gone,  and 
will  never  know." 

3 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

I  cast  myself  into  a  chair  and  hid  my  face. 
Raffles  continued  to  pace  the  rich  carpet  that  was 
of  a  piece  with  everything  else  in  his  rooms.  There 
was  no  variation  In  his  soft  and  even  footfalls. 

"You  used  to  be  a  literary  little  cuss,"  he  said 
at  length;  "didn't  you  edit  the  mag.  before  you 
left?  Anyway  I  recollect  fagging  you  to  do  my 
verses;  and  literature  of  all  sorts  is  the  very  thing 
nowadays;  any  fool  can  make  a  living  at  it." 

I  shook  my  head.  "Any  fool  couldn't  write  off 
my  debts,"  said  I. 

"Then  you  have  a  flat  somewhere?"  he  went  on. 

"Yes,  in  Mount  Street." 

"Well,  what  about  the  furniture?" 

I  laughed  aloud  in  my  misery.  "There's  been  a 
bill  of  sale  on  every  stick  for  months !" 

And  at  that  Raffles  stood  still,  with  raised  eye- 
brows and  stern  eyes  that  I  could  meet  the  better 
now  that  he  knew  the  worst;  then,  with  a  shrug, 
he  resumed  his  walk,  and  for  some  minutes  neither 
of  us  spoke.  But  in  his  handsome,  unmoved  face  I 
read  my  fate  and  death-warrant;  and  with  every 
breath  I  cursed  my  folly  and  my  cowardice  in  com- 
ing to  him  at  all.  Because  he  had  been  kind  to  me 
at  school,  when  he  was  captain  of  the  eleven,  and 
I  his  fag,  I  had  dared  to  look  for  kindness  from 
him  now;  because  I  was  ruined,  and  he  rich  enough 

4 


The  Ides  of  March 

to  play  cricket  all  the  summer,  and  do  nothing  for 
the  rest  of  the  year,  I  had  fatuously  counted  on  his 
mercy,  his  sympathy,  his  help !  Yes,  I  had  relied 
on  him  in  my  heart,  for  all  my  outward  diffidence 
and  humility;  and  I  was  rightly  served.  There 
was  as  little  of  mercy  as  of  sympathy  in  that  curling 
nostril,  that  rigid  jaw,  that  cold  blue  eye  which 
never  glanced  my  way.  I  caught  up  my  hat.  I 
blundered  to  my  feet.  I  would  have  gone  with- 
out a  word;  but  Raffles  stood  between  me  and  the 
door. 

"Where  are  you  going?"  said  he. 

"That's  my  business,"  I  replied.  "I  won't 
trouble  you  any  more." 

"Then  how  am  I  to  help  you?" 

"I  didn't  ask  your  help." 

"Then  why  come  to  me?" 

"Why,  indeed!"  I  echoed.  "Will  you  let  me 
pass?" 

"Not  until  you  tell  me  where  you  are  going  and 
what  you  mean  to  do." 

"Can't  you  guess?"  I  cried.  And  for  many 
seconds  we  stood  staring  in  each  other's  eyes. 

"Have  you  got  the  pluck?"  said  he,  breaking  the 
spell  in  a  tone  so  cynical  that  it  brought  my  last 
drop  of  blood  to  the  boil. 

"You  shall  see,"  said  I,  as  I  stepped  back  and 
5 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

whipped  the  pistol  from  my  overcoat  pocket. 
"Now,  will  you  let  me  pass  or  shall  I  do  it  here?" 

The  barrel  touched  my  temple,  and  my  thumb 
the  trigger.  Mad  with  excitement  as  I  was, 
ruined,  dishonored,  and  now  finally  determined  to 
make  an  end  of  my  misspent  life,  my  only  surprise 
to  this  day  is  that  I  did  not  do  so  then  and  there. 
The  despicable  satisfaction  of  involving  another 
in  one's  destruction  added  its  miserable  appeal  to 
my  baser  egoism;  and  had  fear  or  horror  flown  to 
my  companion's  face,  I  shudder  to  think  I  might 
have  died  diabolically  happy  with  that  look  for  my 
last  impious  consolation.  It  was  the  look  that 
came  instead  which  held  my  hand.  Neither  fear 
nor  horror  were  in  it;  only  wonder,  admiration, 
and  such  a  measure  of  pleased  expectancy  as  caused 
me  after  all  to  pocket  my  revolver  with  an  oath. 

"You  devil!"  I  said.  "I  believe  you  wanted  me 
to  do  it!" 

"Not  quite,"  was  the  reply,  made  with  a  little 
start,  and  a  change  of  color  that  came  too  late. 
"To  tell  you  the  truth,  though,  I  half  thought  you 
meant  it,  and  I  was  never  more  fascinated  in  my 
life.  I  never  dreamt  you  had  such  stuff  in  you. 
Bunny  I  No,  I'm  hanged  if  I  let  you  go  now.  And 
you'd  better  not  try  that  game  again,  for  you  won't 
catch  me  stand  and  look  on  a  second  time.     We 

6 


The  Ides  of  March 

must  think  of  some  way  out  of  the  mess.  I  had  no 
idea  you  were  a  chap  of  that  sort !  There,  let  me 
have  the  gun." 

One  of  his  hands  fell  kindly  on  my  shoulder, 
while  the  other  slipped  into  my  overcoat  pocket, 
and  I  suffered  him  to  deprive  me  of  my  weapon 
without  a  murmur.  Nor  was  this  simply  because 
Raffles  had  the  subtle  power  of  making  himself 
Irresistible  at  will.  He  was  beyond  comparison  the 
most  masterful  man  whom  I  have  ever  known;  yet 
my  acquiescence  was  due  to  more  than  the  mere 
subjection  of  the  weaker  nature  to  the  stronger. 
The  forlorn  hope  which  had  brought  me  to  the 
Albany  was  turned  as  by  magic  into  an  almost 
staggering  sense  of  safety.  Raffles  would  help  me 
after  all!  A.  J.  Raffles  would  be  my  friend!  It 
was  as  though  all  the  world  had  come  round  sud- 
denly to  my  side;  so  far  therefore  from  resisting 
his  action,  I  caught  and  clasped  his  hand  with  a 
fervor  as  uncontrollable  as  the  frenzy  which  had 
preceded  it. 

"God  bless  you!"  I  cried.  "Forgive  me  for 
everything.  I  will  tell  you  the  truth.  I  did  think 
you  might  help  me  In  my  extremity,  though  I  well 
knew  that  I  had  no  claim  upon  you.  Still — for  the 
old  school's  sake — the  sake  of  old  times — I 
thought  you  might  give  me  another  chance.    If  you 

7 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

wouldn't  I  meant  to  blow  out  my  brains — and  will 
still  if  you  change  your  mind!" 

In  truth  I  feared  that  it  was  changing,  with  his 
expression,  even  as  I  spoke,  and  in  spite  of  his 
kindly  tone  and  kindlier  use  of  my  old  school  nick- 
name.   His  next  words  showed  me  my  mistake. 

"What  a  boy  it  is  for  jumping  to  conclusions! 
I  have  my  vices.  Bunny,  but  backing  and  filling  is 
not  one  of  them.  Sit  down,  my  good  fellow,  and 
have  a  cigarette  to  soothe  your  nerves.  I  insist. 
Whiskey?  The  worst  thing  for  you;  here's  some 
coffee  that  I  was  brewing  when  you  came  in.  Now 
listen  to  me.  You  speak  of  'another  chance.'  What 
do  you  mean?  Another  chance  at  baccarat?  Not 
if  I  know  it!  You  think  the  luck  must  turn;  sup- 
pose it  didn't?  We  should  only  have  made  bad 
worse.  No,  my  dear  chap,  you've  plunged  enough. 
Do  you  put  yourself  in  my  hands  or  do  you  not? 
Very  well,  then  you  plunge  no  more,  and  I  under- 
take not  to  present  my  check.  Unfortunately 
there  are  the  other  men;  and  still  more  unfortu- 
nately. Bunny,  I'm  as  hard  up  at  this  moment  as 
you  are  yourself!" 

It  was  my  turn  to  stare  at  Raffles.  "You?"  I 
vociferated.  "You  hard  up?  How  am  I  to  sit 
here  and  believe  that?" 

"Did  I  refuse  to  believe  it  of  you  ?"  he  returned, 
8 


i^tiatSmUUiima^iMeim^^ 


The  Ides  of  March 

smiling.  "And,  with  your  own  experience,  do  you 
thinlc  that  because  a  fellow  has  rooms  in  this  place, 
and  belongs  to  a  club  or  two,  and  plays  a  little 
cricket,  he  must  necessarily  have  a  balance  at  the 
bank?  I  tell  you,  my  dear  man,  that  at  this  mo- 
ment I'm  as  hard  up  as  you  ever  were.  I  have  noth- 
ing but  my  wits  to  live  on — absolutely  nothing  else. 
It  was  as  necessary  for  me  to  win  some  money  this 
evening  as  it  was  for  you.  We're  in  the  same  boat, 
Bunny;  we'd  better  pull  together." 

"Together !"  I  jumped  at  it.  "I'll  do  anything 
in  this  world  for  you.  Raffles,"  I  said,  "if  you  really 
mean  that  you  won't  give  me  away.  Think  of  any- 
thing you  like,  and  I'll  do  it!  I  was  a  desperate 
man  when  I  came  here,  and  I'm  just  as  desperate 
now.  I  don't  mind  what  I  do  if  only  I  can  get  out 
of  this  without  a  scandal." 

Again  I  see  him,  leaning  back  in  one  of  the  lux- 
urious chairs  with  which  his  room  was  furnished. 
I  see  his  indolent,  athletic  figure;  his  pale,  sharp, 
clean-shaven  features;  his  curly  black  hair;  his 
strong,  unscrupulous  mouth.  And  again  I  feel  the 
clear  beam  of  his  wonderful  eye,  cold  and  luminous 
as  a  star,  shining  into  my  brain — sifting  the  very 
secrets  of  my  heart. 

"I  wonder  if  you  mean  all  that!"  he  said  at 
length.     "You  do  in  your  present  mood;  but  who 

9 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

can  back  his  mood  to  last  ?  Still,  there's  hope  when 
a  chap  takes  that  tone.  Now  I  think  of  it,  too,  you 
were  a  plucky  little  devil  at  school;  you  once  did 
me  rather  a  good  turn,  I  recollect.  Remember  It, 
Bunny?  Well,  wait  a  bit,  and  perhaps  I'll  be  able 
to  do  you  a  better  one.    Give  me  time  to  think." 

He  got  up,  Ht  a  fresh  cigarette,  and  fell  to  pacing 
the  room  once  more,  but  with  a  slower  and  more 
thoughtful  step,  and  for  a  much  longer  period  than 
before.  Twice  he  stopped  at  my  chair  as  though 
on  the  point  of  speaking,  but  each  time  he  checked 
himself  and  resumed  his  stride  in  silence.  Once  he 
threw  up  the  window,  which  he  had  shut  some  time 
since,  and  stood  for  some  moments  leaning  out  Into 
the  fog  which  filled  the  Albany  courtyard.  Mean- 
while a  clock  on  the  chimney-piece  struck  one,  and 
one  again  for  the  half-hour,  without  a  word  be- 
tween us. 

Yet  I  not  only  kept  my  chair  with  patience,  but 
I  acquired  an  Incongruous  equanimity  In  that  half- 
hour.  Insensibly  I  had  shifted  my  burden  to  the 
broad  shoulders  of  this  splendid  friend,  and  my 
thoughts  wandered  with  my  eyes  as  the  minutes 
passed.  The  room  was  the  good-sized,  square  one, 
with  the  folding  doors,  the  marble  mantel-piece, 
and  the  gloomy,  old-fashioned  distinction  peculiar 
to  the  Albany.     It  was  charmingly  furnished  and 

ID 


<r  I"  I     1 1  ~  1 1 


The  Ides  of  March 

arranged,  with  the  right  amount  of  negligence  and 
the  right  amount  of  taste.  What  struck  me  most, 
however,  was  the  absence  of  the  usual  insignia 
of  a  cricketer's  den.  Instead  of  the  conventional 
rack  of  war-worn  bats,  a  carved  oak  bookcase,  with 
every  shelf  in  a  litter,  filled  the  better  part  of  one 
wall;  and  where  I  looked  for  cricketing  groups,  I 
found  reproductions  of  such  works  as  "Love  and 
Death"  and  "The  Blessed  Damozel,"  in  dusty 
frames  and  different  parallels.  The  man  might 
have  been  a  minor  poet  instead  of  an  athlete  of  the 
first  water.  But  there  had  always  been  a  fine 
streak  of  asstheticism  in  his  complex  composition; 
some  of  these  very  pictures  I  had  myself  dusted  in 
his  study  at  school;  and  they  set  me  thinking  of 
yet  another  of  his  many  sides — and  of  the  little 
incident  to  which  he  had  just  referred. 

Everybody  knows  how  largely  the  tone  of  a 
public  school  depends  on  that  of  the  eleven,  and 
on  the  character  of  the  captain  of  cricket  in  par- 
ticular; and  I  have  never  heard  it  denied  that  in 
A.  J.  Raffles's  time  our  tone  was  good,  or  that  such 
influence  as  he  troubled  to  exert  was  on  the  side 
of  the  angels.  Yet  it  was  whispered  In  the  school 
that  he  was  in  the  habit  of  parading  the  town  at 
night  in  loud  checks  and  a  false  beard.  It  was 
whispered,  and  disbelieved.    I  alone  knew  it  for  a 

II 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

fact;  for  night  after  night  had  I  pulled  the  rope  up 
after  him  when  the  rest  of  the  dormitory  were 
asleep,  and  kept  awake  by  the  hour  to  let  it  down 
again  on  a  given  signal.  Well,  one  night  he  was 
over-bold,  and  within  an  ace  of  ignominious  expul- 
sion in  the  hey-day  of  his  fame.  Consummate  dar- 
ing and  extraordinary  nerve  on  his  part,  aided, 
doubtless,  by  some  little  presence  of  mind  on  mine, 
averted  the  untoward  result;  and  no  more  need  be 
said  of  a  discreditable  incident.  But  I  cannot  pre- 
tend to  have  forgotten  it  in  throwing  myself  on 
this  man's  mercy  in  my  desperation.  And  I  was 
wondering  how  much  of  his  leniency  was  owing  to 
the  fact  that  Raffles  had  not  forgotten  it  either, 
when  he  stopped  and  stood  over  my  chair  once 
more. 

"I've  been  thinking  of  that  night  we  had  the 
narrow  squeak,"  he  began.    "Why  do  you  start?" 

"I  was  thinking  of  it  too." 

He  smiled,  as  though  he  had  read  my  thoughts. 

"Well,  you  were  the  right  sort  of  little  beggar 
then,  Bunny;  you  didn't  talk  and  you  didn't  flinch. 
You  asked  no  questions  and  you  told  no  tales.  I 
wonder  if  you're  like  that  now?" 

"I  don't  know,"  said  I,  slightly  puzzled  by  his 
tone.  "I've  made  such  a  mess  of  my  own  affairs 
that  I  trust  myself  about  as  little  as  I'm  likely  to 

12 


The  Ides  of  March 

be  trusted  by  anybody  else.  Yet  I  never  In  my 
life  went  back  on  a  friend.  I  will  say  that,  other- 
wise perhaps  I  mightn't  be  in  such  a  hole  to-night." 

"Exactly,"  said  Raffles,  nodding  to  himself,  as 
though  in  assent  to  some  hidden  train  of  thought; 
"exactly  what  I  remember  of  you,  and  I'll  bet  it's 
as  true  now  as  it  was  ten  years  ago.  We  don't 
alter,  Bunny.  We  only  develop.  I  suppose  neither 
you  nor  I  are  really  altered  since  you  used  to  let 
down  that  rope  and  I  used  to  come  up  it  hand  over 
hand.  You  would  stick  at  nothing  for  a  pal — 
what?" 

"At  nothing  in  this  world,"  I  was  pleased  to  cry. 

"Not  even  at  a  crime?"  said  Raffles,  smiling. 

I  stopped  to  think,  for  his  tone  had  changed, 
and  I  felt  sure  he  was  chaffing  me.  Yet  his  eye 
seemed  as  much  In  earnest  as  ever,  and  for  my  part 
I  was  In  no  mood  for  reservations. 

"No,  not  even  at  that,"  I  declared;  "name  your 
crime,  and  I'm  your  man." 

He  looked  at  me  one  moment  In  wonder,  and 
another  moment  In  doubt;  then  turned  the  matter 
off  with  a  shake  of  his  head,  and  the  little  cynical 
laugh  that  was  all  his  own. 

"You're  a  nice  chap.  Bunny!  A  real  desperate 
character — what?  Suicide  one  moment,  and  any 
crime  I  like  the  next !    What  you  want  Is  a  drag, 

13 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

my  boy,  and  you  did  well  to  come  to  a  decent  law- 
abiding  citizen  with  a  reputation  to  lose.  None 
the  less  we  must  have  that  money  to-night — by 
hook  or  crook." 

"To-night,  Raffles?" 

"The  sooner  the  better.  Every  hour  after  ten 
o'clock  to-morrow  morning  is  an  hour  of  risk.  Let 
one  of  those  checks  get  round  to  your  own  bank, 
and  you  and  it  are  dishonored  together.  No,  we 
must  raise  the  wind  to-night  and  re-open  your 
account  first  thing  to-morrow.  And  I  rather  think 
I  know  where  the  wind  can  be  raised." 

"At  two  o'clock  in  the  morning?" 

"Yes." 

"But  how — but  where — at  such  an  hour?" 

"From  a  friend  of  mine  here  in  Bond  Street." 

"He  must  be  a  very  intimate  friend!" 

"Intimate's  not  the  word.  I  have  the  run  of  his 
place  and  a  latch-key  all  to  myself." 

"You  would  knock  him  up  at  this  hour  of  the 
night?" 

"If  he's  In  bed." 

"And  it's  essential  that  I  should  go  in  with  you  ?" 

"Absolutely." 

"Then  I  must;  but  I'm  bound  to  say  I  don't  like 
the  idea,  Raffles." 

"Do  you  prefer  the  alternative?"  asked  my  com- 
14 


The  Ides  of  March 

panlon,  with  a  sneer.  "No,  hang  it,  that's  unfair  !'* 
he  cried  apologetically  in  the  same  breath.  "I 
quite  understand.  It's  a  beastly  ordeal.  But  it 
would  never  do  for  you  to  stay  outside.  I  tell  you 
what,  you  shall  have  a  peg  before  we  start — just 
one.  There's  the  whiskey,  here's  a  syphon,  and  I'll 
be  putting  on  an  overcoat  while  you  help  yourself." 

Well,  I  daresay  I  did  so  with  some  freedom,  for 
this  plan  of  his  was  not  the  less  distasteful  to  me 
from  its  apparent  inevitability.  I  must  own,  how- 
ever, that  it  possessed  fewer  terrors  before  my 
glass  was  empty.  Meanwhile  Raffles  rejoined  me, 
with  a  covert  coat  over  his  blazer,  and  a  soft  felt 
hat  set  carelessly  on  the  curly  head  he  shook  with 
a  smile  as  I  passed  him  the  decanter. 

"When  we  come  back,"  said  he.  "Work  first, 
play  afterward.  Do  you  see  what  day  it  Is?"  he 
added,  tearing  a  leaflet  from  a  Shakespearian  cal- 
endar, as  I  drained  my  glass.  "March  15th.  'The 
Ides  of  March,  the  Ides  of  March,  remember.' 
Eh,  Bunny,  my  boy?  You  won't  forget  them,  will 
you?" 

And,  with  a  laugh,  he  threw  some  coals  on  the 
fire  before  turning  down  the  gas  like  a  careful 
householder.  So  we  went  out  together  as  the  clock 
on  the  chimney-piece  was  striking  two. 


15 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 


II 


Piccadilly  was  a  trench  of  raw  white  fog, 
rimmed  with  blurred  street-lamps,  and  lined 
with  a  thin  coating  of  adliesive  mud.  We  met 
no  other  wayfarers  on  the  deserted  flagstones, 
and  were  ourselves  favored  with  a  very  hard 
stare  from  the  constable  of  the  beat,  who,  how- 
ever, touched  his  helmet  on  recognizing  my 
companion. 

"You  see,  I'm  known  to  the  police,"  laughed 
Raffles  as  we  passed  on.  "Poor  devils,  they've  got 
to  keep  their  weather  eye  open  on  a  night  like  this ! 
A  fog  may  be  a  bore  to  you  and  me.  Bunny,  but  it's 
a  perfect  godsend  to  the  criminal  classes,  especially 
so  late  in  their  season.  Here  we  are,  though — 
and  I'm  hanged  if  the  beggar  isn't  in  bed  and 
asleep  after  all!" 

We  had  turned  into  Bond  Street,  and  had  halted 
on  the  curb  a  few  yards  down  on  the  right.  Raf- 
fles was  gazing  up  at  some  windows  across  the  road, 
windows  barely  discernible  through  the  mist,  and 
without  the  glimmer  of  a  light  to  throw  them  out. 
They  were  over  a  jeweller's  shop,  as  I  could  see 
by  the  peep-hole  in  the  shop  door,  and  the  bright 
light  burning  within.    But  the  entire  "upper  part," 

i6 


The  Ides  of  March 

with  the  private  street-door  next  the  shop,  was 
black  and  blank  as  the  sky  itself. 

"Better  give  it  up  for  to-night,"  I  urged. 
"Surely  the  morning  will  be  time  enough !" 

"Not  a  bit  of  it,"  said  Raffles.  "I  have  his  key. 
We'll  surprise  him.     Come  along." 

And  seizing  my  right  arm,  he  hurried  me  across 
the  road,  opened  the  door  with  his  latch-key,  and 
in  another  moment  had  shut  it  swiftly  but  softly 
behind  us.  We  stood  together  in  the  dark.  Out- 
side, a  measured  step  was  approaching;  we  had 
heard  it  through  the  fog  as  we  crossed  the  street; 
now,  as  it  drew  nearer,  my  companion's  fingers 
tightened  on  my  arm. 

"It  may  be  the  chap  himself,"  he  whispered. 
"He's  the  devil  of  a  night-bird.  Not  a  sound. 
Bunny !    We'll  startle  the  hfe  out  of  him.  Ah  1" 

The  measured  step  had  passed  without  a  pause. 
Raffles  drew  a  deep  breath,  and  his  singular  grip 
of  me  slowly  relaxed. 

"But  still,  not  a  sound,"  he  continued  in  the  same 
whisper;  "we'll  take  a  rise  out  of  him,  wherever  he 
is !     Slip  off  your  shoes  and  follow  me." 

Well,  you  may  wonder  at  my  doing  so;  but  you 
can  never  have  met  A.  J.  Raffles.  Half  his  power 
lay  in  a  conciliating  trick  of  sinking  the  commander 
in  the  leader.    And  it  was  impossible  not  to  follow 

17 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

one  who  led  with  such  a  zest.  You  might  question, 
but  you  followed  first.  So  now,  when  I  heard  him 
kick  off  his  own  shoes,  I  did  the  same,  and  was  on 
the  stairs  at  his  heels  before  I  realized  what  an 
extraordinary  way  was  this  of  approaching  a 
stranger  for  money  in  the  dead  of  night.  But  ob- 
viously Raffles  and  he  were  on  exceptional  terms  of 
intimacy,  and  I  could  not  but  infer  that  they  were 
in  the  habit  of  playing  practical  jokes  upon  each 
other. 

We  groped  our  way  so  slowly  upstairs  that  I 
had  time  to  make  more  than  one  note  before  we 
reached  the  top.  The  stair  was  uncarpeted.  The 
spread  fingers  of  my  right  hand  encountered  noth- 
ing on  the  damp  wall;  those  of  my  left  trailed 
through  a  dust  that  could  be  felt  on  the  banisters. 
An  eerie  sensation  had  been  upon  me  since  we 
entered  the  house.  It  increased  with  every  step  we 
climbed.  What  hermit  were  we  going  to  startle 
in  his  cell? 

We  came  to  a  landing.  The  banisters  led  us  to 
the  left,  and  to  the  left  again.  Four  steps  more, 
and  we  were  on  another  and  a  longer  landing,  and 
suddenly  a  match  blazed  from  the  black.  I  never 
heard  it  struck.  Its  flash  was  blinding.  When  my 
eyes  became  accustomed  to  the  light,  there  was 
Raffles  holding  up  the  match  with  one  hand,  and 

i8 


"■-'^-^—  ^' "■— ^— — *— ^— ^"^~ '— — " — — — ^      -^...^,  ^...-..--.^w-/- . 


The  Ides  of  March 

shading  it  with  the  other,  between  bare  boards, 
stripped  v/alls,  and  the  open  doors  of  empty  rooms. 

"Where  have  you  brought  me?"  I  cried.  "The 
house  is  unoccupied !" 

"Hush  !  Wait !"  he  whispered,  and  he  led  the 
way  into  one  of  the  empty  rooms.  His  match 
went  out  as  we  crossed  the  threshold,  and  he  struck 
another  without  the  slightest  noise.  Then  he  stood 
with  his  back  to  me,  fumbling  with  something  that 
I  could  not  see.  But,  when  he  threw  the  second 
match  away,  there  was  some  other  light  in  its  stead, 
and  a  slight  smell  of  oil.  I  stepped  forward 
to  look  over  his  shoulder,  but  before  I  could  do 
so  he  had  turned  and  flashed  a  tiny  lantern  in  my 
face. 

"What's  this?"  I  gasped.  "What  rotten  trick 
are  you  going  to  play?" 

"It's  played,"  he  answered,  with  his  quiet  laugh. 

"On  me?" 

"I  am  afraid  so.  Bunny.'* 

"Is  there  no  one  in  the  house,  then?" 

"No  one  but  ourselves." 

"So  it  was  mere  chaff  about  your  friend  in  Bond 
Street,  who  could  let  us  have  that  money?" 

"Not  altogether.  It's  quite  true  that  Danby  is 
a  friend  of  mine." 

"Danby?" 

19 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

"The  jeweller  underneath." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  I  whispered,  trembling 
like  a  leaf  as  his  meaning  dawned  upon  me.  "Are 
we  to  get  the  money  from  the  jeweller?" 

"Well,  not  exactly." 

"What,  then?" 

"The  equivalent — from  his  shop." 

There  was  no  need  for  another  question.  I 
understood  everything  but  my  own  density.  He 
had  given  me  a  dozen  hints,  and  I  had  taken  none. 
And  there  I  stood  staring  at  him,  in  that  empty 
room;  and  there  he  stood  with  his  dark  lantern, 
laughing  at  me. 

"A  burglar!"  I  gasped.     "You— you!" 

"I  told  you  I  lived  by  my  wits." 

"Why  couldn't  you  tell  me  what  you  were  going 
to  do?  Why  couldn't  you  trust  me?  Why  must 
you  lie?"  I  demanded,  piqued  to  the  quick  for  all 
my  horror. 

"I  w^anted  to  tell  you,"  said  he.  "I  was  on  the 
point  of  telling  you  more  than  once.  You  may 
remember  how  I  sounded  you  about  crime,  though 
you  have  probably  forgotten  what  you  said  your- 
self. I  didn't  think  you  meant  it  at  the  time,  but 
I  thought  I'd  put  you  to  the  test.  Now  I  see  you 
didn't,  and  I  don't  blame  you.  I  only  am  to  blame. 
Get  out  of  it,  my  dear  boy,  as  quick  as  you  can; 

20 


The  Ides  of  March 

leave  it  to  me.  You  won't  give  me  away,  whatever 
else  you  do !" 

Oh,  his  cleverness !  His  fiendish  cleverness ! 
Had  he  fallen  back  on  threats,  coercion,  sneers,  all 
might  have  been  different  even  yet.  But  he  set  me 
free  to  leave  him  In  the  lurch.  He  would  not 
blame  me.  He  did  not  even  bind  me  to  secrecy; 
he  trusted  me.  He  knew  my  weakness  and  my 
strength,  and  was  playing  on  both  with  his  mas- 
ter's touch. 

"Not  so  fast,"  said  I.  "Did  I  put  this  into  your 
head,  or  were  you  going  to  do  it  in  any  case?" 

"Not  in  any  case,"  said  Raffles.  "It's  true  I've 
had  the  key  for  days,  but  when  I  won  to-night  I 
thought  of  chucking  it;  for,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  it's 
not  a  one-man  job." 

"That  settles  it.    I'm  your  man." 

"You  mean  it?" 

"Yes — for  to-night." 

"Good  old  Bunny,"  he  murmured,  holding  the 
lantern  for  one  moment  to  my  face;  the  next  he 
was  explaining  his  plans,  and  I  was  nodding,  as 
though  we  had  been  fellow-cracksmen  all  our  days. 

"I  know  the  shop,"  he  whispered,  "because  I've 
got  a  few  things  there.  I  know  this  upper  part 
too;  it's  been  to  let  for  a  month,  and  I  got  an  order 
to  view,  and  took  a  cast  of  the  key  before  using  it. 

21 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

The  one  thing  I  don't  know  is  how  to  make  a  con- 
nection between  the  two;  at  present  there's  none'. 
We  may  make  it  up  here,  though  I  rather  fancy  the 
basement  myself.  If  you  wait  a  minute  I'll  tell 
you." 

He  set  his  lantern  on  the  floor,  crept  to  a  back 
window,  and  opened  it  with  scarcely  a  sound:  only 
to  return,  shaking  his  head,  after  shutting  the  win- 
dow with  the  same  care. 

"That  was  our  one  chance,"  said  he;  "a  back 
window  above  a  back  window;  but  it's  too  dark  to 
see  anything,  and  we  daren't  show  an  outside  light. 
Come  down  after  me  to  the  basement;  and  remem- 
ber, though  there's  not  a  soul  on  the  premises,  you 
can't  make  too  little  noise.  There — there — listen 
to  that!" 

It  was  the  measured  tread  that  we  had  heard 
before  on  the  flagstones  outside.  Raffles  darkened 
his  lantern,  and  again  we  stood  motionless  till  it 
had  passed. 

"Either  a  policeman,"  he  muttered,  "or  a  watch- 
man that  all  these  jewellers  nm  between  them. 
The  watchman's  the  man  for  us  to  watch;  he's 
simply  paid  to  spot  this  kind  of  thing." 

We  crept  very  gingerly  down  the  stairs,  which 
creaked  a  bit  in  spite  of  us,  and  we  picked  up  our 
shoes  in  the  passage;  then  down  some  narrow  stone 

22 


The  Ides  of  March 

steps,  at  the  foot  of  which  Raffles  showed  his  light, 
and  put  on  his  shoes  once  more,  bidding  me  do  the 
same  in  a  rather  louder  tone  than  he  had  permitted 
himself  to  employ  overhead.  We  were  now  con- 
siderably below  the  level  of  the  street,  in  a  small 
space  with  as  many  doors  as  it  had  sides.  Three 
were  ajar,  and  we  saw  through  them  into  empty 
cellars;  but  in  the  fourth  a  key  was  turned  and  a 
bolt  drawn;  and  this  one  presently  let  us  out  into 
the  bottom  of  a  deep,  square  well  of  fog.  A  simi- 
lar door  faced  it  across  this  area,  and  Raffles  had 
the  lantern  close  against  it,  and  was  hiding  the 
light  with  his  body,  when  a  short  and  sudden  crash 
made  my  heart  stand  still.  Next  moment  I  saw 
the  door  wide  open,  and  Raffles  standing  within 
and  beckoning  me  with  a  jimmy. 

"Door  number  one,"  he  whispered.  "Deuce 
knows  how  many  more  there'll  be,  but  I  know  of 
two  at  least.  We  won't  have  to  make  much  noise 
over  them,  either;  down  here  there's  less  risk." 

We  were  now  at  the  bottom  of  the  exact  fellow 
to  the  narrow  stone  stair  which  we  had  just  de- 
scended :  the  yard,  or  well,  being  the  one  part  com- 
mon to  both  the  private  and  the  business  premises. 
But  this  flight  led  to  no  open  passage;  instead,  a 
singularly  solid  mahogany  door  confronted  us  at 
the  top. 

23 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

"I  thought  so,"  muttered  Raffles,  handing  me 
the  lantern,  and  pocketing  a  bunch  of  skeleton  keys, 
after  tampering  for  a  few  minutes  with  the  lock. 
"It'll  be  an  hour's  work  to  get  through  that !" 

"Can't  you  pick  it?" 

"No.  I  know  these  locks.  It's  no  use  trying. 
We  must  cut  it  out,  and  it'll  take  us  an  hour." 

It  took  us  forty-seven  minutes  by  my  watch ;  or, 
rather,  it  took  Raffles;  and  never  in  my  life  have  I 
seen  anything  more  deliberately  done.  My  part 
was  simply  to  stand  by  with  the  dark  lantern  in 
one  hand,  and  a  small  bottle  of  rock-oil  in  the 
other.  Raffles  had  produced  a  pretty  embroidered 
case,  intended  obviously  for  his  razors,  but  filled 
instead  with  the  tools  of  his  secret  trade,  including 
the  rock-oil.  From  this  case  he  selected  a  "bit," 
capable  of  drilling  a  hole  an  inch  in  diameter,  and 
fitted  it  to  a  small  but  very  strong  steel  "brace." 
Then  he  took  off  his  covert-coat  and  his  blazer, 
spread  them  neatly  on  the  top  step — knelt  on  them 
— turned  up  his  shirt  cuffs — and  went  to  work  with 
brace-and-bit  near  the  key-hole.  But  first  he  oiled 
the  bit  to  minimize  the  noise,  and  this  he  did  invari- 
ably before  beginning  a  fresh  hole,  and  often  in 
the  middle  of  one.  It  took  thirty-two  separate 
borings  to  cut  around  that  lock. 

I  noticed  that  through  the  first  circular  orifice 
24 


The  Ides  of  March 

Raffles  thrust  a  forefinger;  then,  as  the  circle  be- 
came an  ever-lengthening  oval,  he  got  his  hand 
through  up  to  the  thumb;  and  I  heard  him  swear 
softly  to  himself. 

"I  was  afraid  so !" 

"What  is  it?" 

"An  iron  gate  on  the  other  side!" 

"How  on  earth  are  we  to  get  through  that?"  I 
asked  in  dismay. 

"Pick  the  lock.  But  there  may  be  two.  In  that 
case  they'll  be  top  and  bottom,  and  we  shall  have 
two  fresh  holes  to  make,  as  the  door  opens  inwards. 
It  won't  open  two  inches  as  it  is." 

I  confess  I  did  not  feel  sanguine  about  the  lock- 
picking,  seeing  that  one  lock  had  baffled  us  already; 
and  my  disappointment  and  impatience  must  have 
been  a  revelation  to  me  had  I  stopped  to  think. 
The  truth  is  that  I  was  entering  into  our  nefarious 
undertaking  with  an  involuntary  zeal  of  which  I 
was  myself  quite  unconscious  at  the  time.  The 
romance  and  the  peril  of  the  whole  proceeding 
held  me  spellbound  and  entranced.  My  moral 
sense  and  my  sense  of  fear  were  stricken  by  a  com- 
mon paralysis.  And  there  I  stood,  shining  my 
light  and  holding  my  phial  with  a  keener  interest 
than  I  had  ever  brought  to  any  honest  avocation. 
And  there  knelt  A.  J.  Raffles,  with  his  black  hair 

25 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

tumbled,  and  the  same  watchful,  quiet,  determined 
half-smile  with  which  I  have  seen  him  send  down 
over  after  over  in  a  county  match ! 

At  last  the  chain  of  holes  was  complete,  the  lock 
wrenched  out  bodily,  and  a  splendid  bare  arm 
plunged  up  to  the  shoulder  through  the  aper- 
ture, and  through  the  bars  of  the  iron  gate 
beyond. 

"Now,"  whispered  Raffles,  "If  there's  only  one 
lock  It'll  be  In  the  middle.  Joy !  Here  It  is !  Only 
let  me  pick  it,  and  we're  through  at  last." 

He  withdrew  his  arm,  a  skeleton  key  was  se- 
lected from  the  bunch,  and  then  back  went  his  arm 
to  the  shoulder.  It  was  a  breathless  moment.  I 
heard  the  heart  throbbing  In  my  body,  the  very 
watch  ticking  In  my  pocket,  and  ever  and  anon  the 
tinkle-tinkle  of  the  skeleton  key.  Then — at  last — 
there  came  a  single  unmistakable  click.  In  another 
minute  the  mahogany  door  and  the  iron  gate 
yawned  behind  us;  and  Raffles  was  sitting  on  an 
office  table,  wiping  his  face,  with  the  lantern  throw- 
ing a  steady  beam  by  his  side. 

We  were  now  In  a  bare  and  roomy  lobby  behind 
the  shop,  but  separated  therefrom  by  an  Iron  cur- 
tain, the  very  sight  of  which  filled  me  with  despair. 
Raffles,  however,  did  not  appear  in  the  least  de- 
pressed, but  hung  up  his  coat  and  hat  on  some  pegs 

26 


1 


The  Ides  of  March 

in  the  lobby  before  examining  this  curtain  with  his 
lantern. 

"That's  nothing,"  said  he,  after  a  minute's  in- 
spection; "we'll  be  through  that  in  no  time,  but 
there's  a  door  on  the  other  side  which  may  give  us 
trouble." 

"Another  door!"  I  groaned.  "And  how  do  you 
mean  to  tackle  this  thing?" 

"Prise  it  up  with  the  jointed  jimmy.  The  weak 
point  of  these  iron  curtains  is  the  leverage  you  can 
get  from  below.  But  it  makes  a  noise,  and  this  is 
where  you're  coming  in,  Bunny;  this  is  where  I 
couldn't  do  without  you.  I  must  have  you  over- 
head to  knock  through  when  the  street's  clear.  I'll 
come  with  you  and  show  a  light." 

Well,  you  may  imagine  how  little  I  liked  the 
prospect  of  this  lonely  vigil;  and  yet  there  was 
something  very  stimulating  in  the  vital  responsibil- 
ity which  it  involved.  Hitherto  I  had  been  a  mere 
spectator.  Now  I  was  to  take  part  In  the  game. 
And  the  fresh  excitement  made  me  more  than  ever 
insensible  to  those  considerations  of  conscience 
and  of  safety  which  were  already  as  dead  nerves  in 
my  breast. 

So  I  took  my  post  without  a  murmur  In  the  front 
room  above  the  shop.  The  fixtures  had  been  left 
for  the  refusal  of  the  incoming  tenant,  and  fortu- 

27 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

nately  for  us  they  included  Venetian  blinds  which 
were  already  down.  It  was  the  simplest  matter  in 
the  world  to  stand  peeping  through  the  laths  into 
the  street,  to  beat  twice  with  my  foot  when  any- 
body was  approaching,  and  once  when  all  was 
clear  again.  The  noises  that  even  I  could  hear 
below,  with  the  exception  of  one  metallic  crash  at 
the  beginning,  were  indeed  incredibly  slight;  but 
they  ceased  altogether  at  each  double  rap  from  my 
toe;  and  a  policeman  passed  quite  half  a  dozen 
times  beneath  my  eyes,  and  the  man  whom  I  took 
to  be  the  jeweller's  watchman  oftener  still,  during 
the  better  part  of  an  hour  that  I  spent  at  the  win- 
dow. Once,  indeed,  my  heart  was  in  my  mouth, 
but  only  once.  It  was  when  the  watchman  stopped 
and  peered  through  the  peep-hole  into  the  lighted 
shop.  I  waited  for  his  whistle — I  waited  for  the 
gallows  or  the  gaol!  But  my  signals  had  been 
studiously  obeyed,  and  the  man  passed  on  in  undis- 
turbed serenity.  In  the  end  I  had  a  signal  in  my 
turn,  and  retraced  my  steps  with  lighted  matches, 
down  the  broad  stairs,  down  the  narrow  ones, 
across  the  area,  and  up  into  the  lobby  where  Raffles 
awaited  me  with  an  outstretched  hand. 

"Well  done,  my  boy!"  said  he.  "You're  the 
same  good  man  in  a  pinch,  and  you  shall  have  your 
reward.    I've  got  a  thousand  pounds'  worth  if  I've 

28 


ii^dUM 


The  Ides  of  March 

got  a  penn'oth.  It's  all  in  my  pockets.  And  here's 
something  else  I  found  in  this  locker;  very  decent 
port  and  some  cigars,  meant  for  poor  dear  Danby's 
business  friends.  Take  a  pull,  and  you  shall  light 
up  presently.  I've  found  a  lavatory,  too,  and  we 
must  have  a  wash-and-brush-up  before  we  go,  for 
I'm  as  black  as  your  boot." 

The  Iron  curtain  was  down,  but  he  insisted  on 
raising  it  until  I  could  peep  through  the  glass  door 
on  the  other  side  and  see  his  handiwork  in  the  shop 
beyond.  Here  two  electric  lights  were  left  burn- 
ing all  night  long,  and  in  their  cold  white  rays  I 
could  at  first  see  nothing  amiss.  I  looked  along 
an  orderly  lane,  an  empty  glass  counter  on  my  left, 
glass  cupboards  of  untouched  silver  on  my  right, 
and  facing  me  the  filmy  black  eye  of  the  peep-hole 
that  shone  like  a  stage  moon  on  the  street.  The 
counter  had  not  been  emptied  by  Raffles;  its  con- 
tents were  in  the  Chubb's  safe,  which  he  had  given 
up  at  a  glance;  nor  had  he  looked  at  the  silver, 
except  to  choose  a  cigarette  case  for  me.  He  had 
confined  himself  entirely  to  the  shop  window.  This 
was  in  three  compartments,  each  secured  for  the 
night  by  removable  panels  with  separate  locks. 
Raffles  had  removed  them  a  few  hours  before  their 
time,  and  the  electric  light  shone  on  a  corrugated 
shutter  bare  as  the  ribs  of  an  empty  carcase.    Every 

29 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

article  of  value  was  gone  from  the  one  place  which 
was  invisible  from  the  little  window  in  the  door; 
elsewhere  all  was  as  it  had  been  left  overnight. 
And  but  for  a  train  of  mangled  doors  behind  the 
iron  curtain,  a  bottle  of  wine  and  a  cigar-box  with 
which  liberties  had  been  taken,  a  rather  black  towel 
in  the  lavatory,  a  burnt  match  here  and  there,  and 
our  finger-marks  on  the  dusty  banisters,  not  a  trace 
of  our  visit  did  we  leave. 

"Had  it  in  my  head  for  long?"  said  Raffles,  as 
we  strolled  through  the  streets  towards  dawn,  for 
all  the  world  as  though  we  were  returning  from  a 
dance.  "No,  Bunny,  I  never  thought  of  it  till  I 
saw  that  upper  part  empty  about  a  month  ago,  and 
bought  a  few  things  in  the  shop  to  get  the  lie  of  the 
land.  That  reminds  me  that  I  never  paid  for 
them;  but,  by  Jove,  I  will  to-morrow,  and  if  that 
isn't  poetic  justice,  what  is?  One  visit  showed  me 
the  possibilities  of  the  place,  but  a  second  con- 
vinced me  of  its  impossibilities  without  a  pal.  So 
I  had  practically  given  up  the  idea,  when  you  came 
along  on  the  very  night  and  in  the  very  plight  for 
it!  But  here  we  are  at  the  Albany,  and  I  hope 
there's  some  fire  left;  for  I  don't  know  how  you 
feel.  Bunny,  but  for  my  part  I'm  as  cold  as  Keats's 
owl." 

He  could  think  of  Keats  on  his  way  from  a  fel- 
30 


The  Ides  of  March 

ony  !  He  could  hanker  for  his  fireside  like  another ! 
Floodgates  were  loosed  within  me,  and  the  plain 
English  of  our  adventure  rushed  over  me  as  cold 
as  Ice.  Raffles  was  a  burglar.  I  had  helped  him 
to  commit  one  burglary,  therefore  I  was  a  burglar, 
too.  Yet  I  could  stand  and  warm  myself  by  his 
fire,  and  watch  him  empty  his  pockets,  as  though 
we  had  done  nothing  wonderful  or  wicked ! 

My  blood  froze.  My  heart  sickened.  My  brain 
whirled.  How  I  had  liked  this  villain!  How  I 
had  admired  him  !  Now  my  liking  and  admiration 
must  turn  to  loathing  and  disgust.  I  waited  for 
the  change.  I  longed  to  feel  it  in  my  heart.  But 
— I  longed  and  I  waited  in  vain ! 

I  saw  that  he  was  emptying  his  pockets;  the 
table  sparkled  with  their  hoard.  Rings  by  the 
dozen,  diamonds  by  the  score;  bracelets,  pendants, 
aigrettes,  necklaces,  pearls,  rubles,  amethysts,  sap- 
phires; and  diamonds  always,  diamonds  In  every- 
thing, flashing  bayonets  of  light,  dazzling  me — 
blinding  me — making  me  disbelieve  because  I  could 
no  longer  forget.  Last  of  all  came  no  gem,  in- 
deed, but  my  own  revolver  from  an  Inner  pocket. 
And  that  struck  a  chord.  I  suppose  I  said  some- 
thing— my  hand  flew  out.  I  can  see  Raffles  now, 
as  he  looked  at  me  once  more  with  a  high  arch  over 
each  clear  eye.     I  can  see  him  pick  out  the  car- 

31 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

tridges  with  his  quiet,   cynical  smile,   before   he 
would  give  me  my  pistol  back  again. 

"You  mayn't  believe  it,  Bunny,"  said  he,  "but  I 
never  carried  a  loaded  one  before.  On  the  whole 
I  thinlc  it  gives  one  confidence.  Yet  it  would  be 
very  awkward  if  anything  went  wrong;  one  might 
use  it,  and  that's  not  the  game  at  all,  though  I  have 
often  thought  that  the  murderer  who  has  just  done 
the  trick  must  have  great  sensations  before  things 
get  too  hot  for  him.  Don't  look  so  distressed,  my 
dear  chap.  I've  never  had  those  sensations,  and  I 
don't  suppose  I  ever  shall." 

"But  this  much  you  have  done  before?"  said  I 
hoarsely. 

"Before?  My  dear  Bunny,  you  offend  me  !  Did 
it  look  like  a  first  attempt?  Of  course  I  have  done 
it  before." 

"Often?" 

"Well — no !  Not  often  enough  to  destroy  the 
charm,  at  all  events;  never,  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
unless  I'm  cursedly  hard  up.  Did  you  hear  about 
the  Thimbleby  diamonds?  Well,  that  was  the  last 
time — and  a  poor  lot  of  paste  they  were.  Then 
there  was  the  little  business  of  the  Dormer  house- 
boat at  Henley  last  year.  That  was  mine  also — 
such  as  it  was.  I've  never  brought  off  a  really  big 
coup  yet;  when  I  do  I  shall  chuck  it  up." 

32 


amma 


The  Ides  of  March 

Yes,  I  remembered  both  cases  very  well.  To 
think  that  he  was  their  author !  It  was  incredible, 
outrageous,  inconceivable.  Then  my  eyes  would 
fall  upon  the  table,  twinkling  and  glittering  in  a 
hundred  places,  and  incredulity  was  at  an  end. 

"How  came  you  to  begin?"  I  asked,  as  curiosity 
overcame  mere  wonder,  and  a  fascination  for  his 
career  gradually  wove  Itself  into  my  fascination 
for  the  man. 

"Ah !  that's  a  long  story,"  said  Raffles.  "It  was 
in  the  Colonies,  when  I  was  out  there  playing 
cricket.  It's  too  long  a  story  to  tell  you  now,  but 
I  was  In  much  the  same  fix  that  you  were  in  to- 
night, and  it  was  mxy  only  way  out.  I  never  meant 
it  for  anything  more;  but  I'd  tasted  blood,  and  it 
was  all  over  with  me.  Why  should  I  work  when 
I  could  steal  ?  Why  settle  down  to  some  humdrum 
uncongenial  billet,  when  excitement,  romance,  dan- 
ger and  a  decent  living  were  all  going  begging 
together?  Of  course  It's  very  wrong,  but  we  can't 
all  be  moralists,  and  the  distribution  of  wealth  is 
very  wrong  to  begin  with.  Besides,  you're  not  at 
It  all  the  time.  I'm  sick  of  quoting  Gilbert's  lines 
to  myself,  but  they're  profoundly  true.  I  only 
wonder  If  you'll  like  the  life  as  much  as  I  do!" 

"Like  It?"  I  cried  out.  "Not  I!  It's  no  hfe 
for  me.     Once  Is  enough!" 

33 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

"You  wouldn't  give  me  a  hand  another  time?" 

"Don't  ask  me,  Raffles.  Don't  ask  me,  "^for 
God's  sake!" 

"Yet  you  said  you  would  do  anything  for  me! 
You  asked  me  to  name  my  crime !  But  I  knew  at 
the  time  you  didn't  mean  it;  you  didn't  go  back  on 
me  to-night,  and  that  ought  to  satisfy  me,  goodness 
knows !  I  suppose  I'm  ungrateful,  and  unreasona- 
ble, and  all  that.  I  ought  to  let  it  end  at  this.  But 
you're  the  very  man  for  me.  Bunny,  the — very — 
man!  Just  think  how  we  got  through  to-night. 
Not  a  scratch — not  a  hitch  !  There's  nothing  very 
terrible  in  It,  you  see ;  there  never  would  be,  while 
we  worked  together." 

He  was  standing  in  front  of  me  with  a  hand  on 
either  shoulder;  he  was  smiling  as  he  knew  so  well 
how  to  smile.  I  turned  on  my  heel,  planted  my 
elbows  on  the  chimney-piece,  and  my  burning  head 
between  my  hands.  Next  instant  a  still  heartier 
hand  had  fallen  on  my  back. 

"All  right,  my  boy!  You  are  quite  right  and 
I'm  worse  than  wrong.  I'll  never  ask  it  again. 
Go,  if  you  want  to,  and  come  again  about  mid-day 
for  the  cash.  There  was  no  bargain;  but,  of 
course,  I'll  get  you  out  of  your  scrape — especially 
after  the  way  you've  stood  by  me  to-night." 

I  was  round  again  with  my  blood  on  fire. 
34 


The  Ides  of  March 

"I'll  do  It  again,""  I  said,  through  my  teeth. 

He  shook  his  head.  "Not  you,"  he  said,  smiling 
quite  good-humoredly  on  my  insane  enthusiasm. 

"I  will,"  I  cried  with  an  oath.  "I'll  lend  you  a 
hand  as  often  as  you  like !  What  does  It  matter 
now?  I've  been  in  it  once.  I'll  be  In  it  again.  I've 
gone  to  the  devil  anyhow.  I  can't  go  back,  and 
wouldn't  if  I  could.  Nothing  matters  another  rap  ! 
When  you  want  me,  I'm  your  man  !" 

And  that  is  how  Raffles  and  I  joined  felonious 
forces  on  the  Ides  of  March. 


35 


A  Costume  Piece 

LONDON  was  just  then  talking  of  one  whose 
name  is  already  a  name  and  nothing  more. 
Reuben  Rosenthall  had  made  his  millions  on  the 
diamond  fields  of  South  Africa,  and  had  come  home 
to  enjoy  them  according  to  his  lights;  how  he  went 
to  work  will  scarcely  be  forgotten  by  any  reader  of 
the  halfpenny  evening  papers,  which  revelled  in 
endless  anecdotes  of  his  original  indigence  and 
present  prodigality,  varied  with  interesting  partic- 
ulars of  the  extraordinary  establishment  which  the 
millionaire  set  up  in  St.  John's  Wood.  Here  he 
kept  a  retinue  of  Kaffirs,  who  were  literally  his 
slaves;  and  hence  he  would  sally,  with  enormous 
diamonds  in  his  shirt  and  on  his  finger,  in  the  con- 
voy of  a  prize-fighter  of  heinous  repute,  who  was 
not,  however,  by  any  means  the  worst  element  in 
the  Rosenthall  melange.  So  said  common  gossip; 
but  the  fact  was  sufficiently  established  by  the  inter- 
ference of  the  police  on  at  least  one  occasion,  fol- 
lowed by  certain  magisterial  proceedings  which 
were  reported  with  justifiable  gusto  and  huge  head- 
lines in  the  newspapers  aforesaid.    And  this  was 

36 


A  Costume  Piece 

all  one  knew  of  Reuben  Rosenthall  up  to  the  time 
when  the  Old  Bohemian  Club,  having  fallen  on 
evil  days,  found  it  worth  its  while  to  organize  a 
great  dinner  in  honor  of  so  wealthy  an  exponent 
of  the  club's  principles.  I  was  not  at  the  banquet 
myself,  but  a  member  took  Raffles,  who  told  me  all 
about  it  that  very  night. 

"Most  extraordinary  show  I  ever  went  to  in  my 
life,"  said  he.  "As  for  the  man  himself — well,  I 
was  prepared  for  something  grotesque,  but  the 
fellow  fairly  took  my  breath  away.  To  begin 
with,  he's  the  most  astounding  brute  to  look  at, 
well  over  six  feet,  with  a  chest  like  a  barrel,  and  a 
great  hook-nose,  and  the  reddest  hair  and  whiskers 
you  ever  saw.  Drank  like  a  fire-engine,  but  only 
got  drunk  enough  to  make  us  a  speech  that  I 
wouldn't  have  missed  for  ten  pounds.  I'm  only 
sorry  you  weren't  there,  too.  Bunny,  old  chap." 

I  began  to  be  sorry  myself,  for  Raffles  was  any- 
thing but  an  excitable  person,  and  never  had  I  seen 
him  so  excited  before.  Had  he  been  following 
Rosenthall's  example?  His  coming  to  my  rooms 
at  midnight,  merely  to  tell  me  about  his  dinner, 
was  In  itself  enough  to  excuse  a  suspicion  which 
was  certainly  at  variance  with  my  knowledge  of 
A.  J.  Raffles. 

"What  did  he  say?"  I  Inquired  mechanically, 
Z7 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

divining  some  subtler  explanation  of  this  visit,  and 
wondering  what  on  earth  it  could  be. 

"Say?"  cried  Raffles.  "What  did  he  not  say! 
He  boasted  of  his  rise,  he  bragged  of  his  riches, 
and  he  blackguarded  society  for  taking  him  up  for 
his  money  and  dropping  him  out  of  sheer  pique 
and  jealousy  because  he  had  so  much.  He  men- 
tioned names,  too,  with  the  most  charming  free- 
dom, and  swore  he  was  as  good  a  man  as  the  Old 
Country  had  to  show — pace  the  Old  Bohemians. 
To  prove  it  he  pointed  to  a  great  diamond  in  the 
middle  of  his  shirt-front  with  a  little  finger  loaded 
with  another  just  like  it:  which  of  our  bloated 
princes  could  show  a  pair  like  that?  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  they  seemed  quite  wonderful  stones,  with 
a  curious  purple  gleam  to  them  that  must  mean  a 
pot  of  money.  But  old  Rosenthall  swore  he 
wouldn't  take  fifty  thousand  pounds  for  the  two, 
and  wanted  to  know  where  the  other  man  was  who 
went  about  with  twenty-five  thousand  in  his  shirt- 
ti  front,  and  another  twenty-five  on  his  little  finger. 
He  didn't  exist.  If  he  did,  he  wouldn't  have  the 
pluck  to  wear  them.  But  he  had — he'd  tell  us  why. 
And  before  you  could  say  Jack  Robinson  he  had 
whipped  out  a  whacking  great  revolver!" 
"Not  at  the  table?" 

"At  the  table !     In  the  middle  of  his  speech ! 
38 


A  Costume  Piece 

But  it  was  nothing  to  what  he  wanted  to  do.  He 
actually  wanted  us  to  let  him  write  his  name  in 
bullets  on  the  opposite  wall,  to  show  us  why  he 
wasn't  afraid  to  go  about  in  all  his  diamonds! 
That  brute  Purvis,  the  prize-fighter,  who  is  his 
paid  bully,  had  to  bully  his  master  before  he  could 
be  persuaded  out  of  it.  There  was  quite  a  panic 
for  the  moment;  one  fellow  was  saying  his  prayers 
under  the  table,  and  the  waiters  bolted  to  a  man." 
"What  a  grotesque  scene !" 
"Grotesque  enough,  but  I  rather  wish  they  had 
let  him  go  the  whole  hog  and  blaze  away.  He  was 
as  keen  as  knives  to  show  us  how  he  could  take  care 
of  his  purple  diamonds ;  and,  do  you  know,  Bunny, 
/  was  as  keen  as  knives  to  see." 

And  Raffles  leaned  towards  me  with  a  sly,  slow 
smile  that  made  the  hidden  meaning  of  his  visit 
only  too  plain  to  me  at  last. 

"So  you  think  of  having  a  try  for  his  diamonds 
yourself?" 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders. 
"It  is  horribly  obvious,  I  admit.  But — yes,  I 
have  set  my  heart  upon  them !  To  be  quite  frank, 
I  have  had  them  on  my  conscience  for  some  time; 
one  couldn't  hear  so  much  of  the  man,  and  his 
prize-fighter,  and  his  diamonds,  without  feeling  It 
a  kind  of  duty  to  have  a  go  for  them ;  but  when  It 

39 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

comes  to  brandishing  a  revolver  and  practically 
challenging  the  world,  the  thing  becomes  inevita- 
ble. It  is  simply  thrust  upon  one.  I  was  fated  to 
hear  that  challenge,  Bunny,  and  I,  for  one,  must 
take  it  up.  I  was  only  sorry  I  couldn't  get  on  my 
hind  legs  and  say  so  then  and  there." 

"Well,"  I  said,  "I  don't  see  the  necessity  as 
things  are  with  us;  but,  of  course,  I'm  your  man." 

My  tone  may  have  been  half-hearted.  I  did  my 
best  to  make  it  otherwise.  But  it  was  barely  a 
month  since  our  Bond  Street  exploit,  and  we  cer- 
tainly could  have  afforded  to  behave  ourselves  for 
some  time  to  come.  We  had  been  getting  along 
so  nicely:  by  his  advice  I  had  scribbled  a  thing  or 
two;  inspired  by  Raffles,  I  had  even  done  an  article 
on  our  own  jewel  robbery;  and  for  the  moment  I 
was  quite  satisfied  with  this  sort  of  adventure.  I 
thought  we  ought  to  know  when  we  were  well  off, 
and  could  see  no  point  in  our  running  fresh  risks 
before  we  were  obliged.  On  the  other  hand,  I  was 
anxious  not  to  show  the  least  disposition  to  break 
the  pledge  that  I  had  given  a  month  ago.  But  it 
was  not  on  my  manifest  disinclination  that  Raffles 
fastened. 

"Necessity,  my  dear  Bunny?  Does  the  writer 
only  write  when  the  wolf  is  at  the  door?  Does 
the  painter  paint  for  bread  alone?    Must  you  and 

40 


A  Costume  Piece 

I  be  driven  to  crime  like  Tom  of  Bow  and  Dick  of 
Whitechapel?  You  pain  me,  my  dear  chap;  you 
needn't  laugh,  because  you  do.  Art  for  art's  sake 
is  a  vile  catchword,  but  I  confess  it  appeals  to  me. 
In  this  case  my  motives  are  absolutely  pure,  for  I 
doubt  if  we  shall  ever  be  able  to  dispose  of  such 
peculiar  stones.  But  if  I  don't  have  a  try  for  them 
— after  to-night — I  shall  never  be  able  to  hold  up 
my  head  again." 

His  eye  twinkled,  but  it  glittered,  too. 

"We  shall  have  our  work  cut  out,"  was  all  I 
said. 

"And  do  you  suppose  I  should  be  keen  on  it  if 
we  hadn't?"  cried  Raffles.  "My  dear  fellow,  I 
would  rob  St.  Paul's  Cathedral  if  I  could,  but  I 
could  no  more  scoop  a  till  when  the  shopwalker 
wasn't  looking  than  I  could  bag  the  apples  out  of 
an  old  woman's  basket.  Even  that  little  business 
last  month  was  a  sordid  affair,  but  it  was  necessary, 
and  I  think  its  strategy  redeemed  it  to  some  extent. 
Nov/  there's  some  credit,  and  more  sport,  in  going 
where  they  boast  they're  on  their  guard  against 
you.  The  Bank  of  England,  for  example,  is  the 
ideal  crib;  but  that  would  need  half  a  dozen  of  us 
with  years  to  give  to  the  job;  and  meanwhile  Reu- 
ben Rosenthall  is  high  enough  game  for  you  and 
me.    We  know  he's  armed.     We  know  how  Billy 

41 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

Purvis  can  fight.  It'll  be  no  soft  thing,  I  grant  you. 
But  what  of  that,  my  good  Bunny — what  of  that? 
A  man's  reach  must  exceed  his  grasp,  dear  boy,  or 
what  the  dickens  is  a  heaven  for?" 

"I  would  rather  we  didn't  exceed  ours  just  yet," 
I  answered  laughing,  for  his  spirit  was  irresistible,' 
and  the  plan  was  growing  upon  me,  despite  my 
qualms. 

"Trust  me  for  that,"  was  his  reply;  "I'll  see  you 
through.  After  all  I  expect  to  find  that  the  diffi- 
culties are  nearly  all  on  the  surface.  These  fellows 
both  drink  like  the  devil,  and  that  should  simplify 
matters  considerably.  But  we  shall  see,  and  we 
must  take  our  time.  There  will  probably  turn  out 
to  be  a  dozen  different  ways  in  which  the  thing 
might  be  done,  and  we  shall  have  to  choose  be- 
tween them.  It  will  mean  watching  the  house  for 
at  least  a  week  in  any  case;  it  may  mean  lots  of 
other  things  that  will  take  much  longer;  but  give 
me  a  week  and  I  will  tell  you  more.  That's  to  say, 
if  you're  really  on?" 

"Of  course  I  am,"  I  replied  indignantly.  "But 
why  should  I  give  you  a  week?  Why  shouldn't 
we  watch  the  house  together?" 

"Because  two  eyes  are  as  good  as  four  and  take 
up  less  room.  Never  hunt  in  couples  unless  you're 
obliged.      But  don't   you   look   offended.   Bunny; 

42 


A  Costume  Piece 

there'll  be  plenty  for  you  to  do  when  the  time 
comes,  that  I  promise  you.  You  shall  have  your 
share  of  the  fun,  never  fear,  and  a  purple  diamond 
all  to  yourself — if  we're  lucky." 

On  the  whole,  however,  this  conversation  left 
me  less  than  lukewarm,  and  I  still  remember  the 
depression  which  came  upon  me  when  Raffles  was 
gone.  I  saw  the  folly  of  the  enterprise  to  which  I 
had  committed  myself — the  sheer,  gratuitous,  un- 
necessary folly  of  it.  And  the  paradoxes  in  which 
Raffles  revelled,  and  the  frivolous  casuistry  which 
was  nevertheless  half  sincere,  and  which  his  mere 
personality  rendered  wholly  plausible  at  the  mo- 
ment of  utterance,  appealed  very  little  to  me  when 
recalled  in  cold  blood.  I  admired  the  spirit  of  pure 
mischief  in  which  he  seemed  prepared  to  risk  his 
liberty  and  his  life,  but  I  did  not  find  it  an  infec- 
tious spirit  on  calm  reflection.  Yet  the  thought  of 
withdrawal  was  not  to  be  entertained  for  a  mo- 
ment. On  the  contrary,  I  was  impatient  of  the 
delay  ordained  by  Raffles;  and,  perhaps,  no  small 
part  of  my  secret  disaffection  came  of  his  galling 
determination  to  do  without  me  until  the  last 
moment. 

It  made  it  no  better  that  this  was  characteristic 
of  the  man  and  of  his  attitude  towards  me.  For  a 
month  we  had  been,  I  suppose,  the  thickest  thieves 

43 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

in  all  London,  and  yet  our  intimacy  was  curiously 
incomplete.  With  all  his  charming  frankness-, 
there  was  in  Raffles  a  vein  of  capricious  reserve 
which  was  perceptible  enough  to  be  very  irritating. 
He  had  the  instinctive  secretiveness  of  the  invete- 
rate criminal.  He  would  make  mysteries  of  mat- 
ters of  common  concern;  for  example,  I  never 
knew  how  or  where  he  disposed  of  the  Bond  Street 
jewels,  on  the  proceeds  of  which  we  were  both  still 
leading  the  outward  lives  of  hundreds  of  other 
young  fellows  about  town.  He  was  consistently 
mysterious  about  that  and  other  details,  of  which 
it  seemed  to  me  that  I  had  already  earned  the  right 
to  know  everything.  I  could  not  but  remember 
how  he  had  led  me  into  my  first  felony,  by  means 
of  a  trick,  while  yet  uncertain  whether  he  could 
trust  me  or  not.  That  I  could  no  longer  afford  to 
resent,  but  I  did  resent  his  want  of  confidence  in 
me  now.  I  said  nothing  about  it,  but  it  rankled 
every  day,  and  never  more  than  In  the  week  that 
succeeded  the  Rosenthall  dinner.  When  I  met 
Raffles  at  the  club  he  would  tell  me  nothing;  when 
I  went  to  his  rooms  he  was  out,  or  pretended  to  be. 
One  day  he  told  me  he  was  getting  on  well,  but 
slowly;  if.  was  a  more  ticklish  game  than  he  had 
thought;  but  when  I  began  to  ask  questions  he 
would  say  no  more.    Then  and  there,  in  my  annoy- 

44 


A  Costume  Piece 

ance,  I  took  my  own  decision.  Since  he  would  tell 
me  nothing  of  the  result  of  his  vigils,  I  determined 
to  keep  one  on  my  own  account,  and  that  very 
evening  found  my  way  to  the  millionaire's  front 
gates. 

The  house  he  was  occupying  Is,  I  believe,  quite 
the  largest  in  the  St.  John's  Wood  district.  It 
stands  in  the  angle  formed  by  two  broad  thorough- 
fares, neither  of  which,  as  it  happens,  is  a  'bus 
route,  and  I  doubt  if  many  quieter  spots  exist 
within  the  four-mile  radius.  Quiet  also  was  the 
great  square  house,  In  its  garden  of  grass-plots 
and  shrubs;  the  lights  were  low,  the  millionaire 
and  his  friends  obviously  spending  their  evening 
elsewhere.  The  garden  walls  were  only  a  few  feet 
high.  In  one  there  was  a  side  door  opening  into 
a  glass  passage;  In  the  other  two  five-barred, 
gralned-and-varnlshed  gates,  one  at  either  end  of 
the  little  seml-clrcular  drive,  and  both  wide  open. 
So  still  was  the  place  that  I  had  a  great  mind  to 
walk  boldly  In  and  learn  something  of  the  prem- 
ises; In  fact,  I  was  on  the  point  of  doing  so,  when 
I  heard  a  quick,  shuffling  step  on  the  pavement  be- 
hind me.  I  turned  round  and  faced  the  dark  scowl 
and  the  dirty  clenched  fists  of  a  dilapidated  tramp. 

"You  fool !"  said  he.    "You  utter  Idiot !" 

"Raffles!" 

45 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

"That's  it,"  he  whispered  savagely;  "tell  all  the 
neighborhood — give  me  away  at  the  top  of  your- 
voice !" 

With  that  he  turned  his  back  upon  me,  and 
shambled  down  the  road,  shrugging  his  shoulders 
and  muttering  to  himself  as  though  I  had  refused 
him  alms.  A  few  moments  I  stood  astounded,  in- 
dignant, at  a  loss;  then  I  followed  him.  His  feet 
trailed,  his  knees  gave,  his  back  was  bowed,  his 
head  kept  nodding;  it  was  the  gait  of  a  man  eighty 
years  of  age.  Presently  he  waited  for  me  midway 
between  two  lamp-posts.  As  I  came  up  he  was 
lighting  rank  tobacco,  in  a  cutty  pipe,  with  an  evil- 
smelling  match,  and  the  flame  showed  me  the  sus- 
picion of  a  smile. 

"You  must  forgive  my  heat,  Bunny,  but  it  really 
was  very  foolish  of  you.  Here  am  I  trying  every 
dodge — begging  at  the  door  one  night — hiding  in 
the  shrubs  the  next — doing  every  mortal  thing  but 
stand  and  stare  at  the  house  as  you  went  and  did. 
It's  a  costume  piece,  and  in  you  rush  in  your  ordi- 
nary clothes.  I  tell  you  they're  on  the  lookout  for 
us  night  and  day.  It's  the  toughest  nut  I  ever 
tackled!" 

"Well,"  said  I,  "if  you  had  told  me  so 
before  I  shouldn't  have  come.  You  told  me 
nothing." 

46 


A  Costume  Piece 

He  looked  hard  at  me  from  under  the  broken 
brim  of  a  battered  billycock. 

"You're  right,"  he  said  at  length.  "I've  been 
too  close.  It's  become  second  nature  with  me  when 
I've  anything  on.  But  here's  an  end  of  it,  Bunny, 
so  far  as  you're  concerned.  I'm  going  home  now, 
and  I  want  you  to  follow  me ;  but  for  heaven's  sake 
keep  your  distance,  and  don't  speak  to  me  again 
till  I  speak  to  you.  There — give  me  a  start.*'  And 
he  was  off  again,  a  decrepit  vagabond,  with  his 
hands  in  his  pockets,  his  elbows  squared,  and  frayed 
coat-tails  swinging  raggedly  from  side  to  side. 

I  followed  him  to  the  Finchley  Road.  There 
he  took  an  Atlas  omnibus,  and  I  sat  some  rows 
behind  him  on  the  top,  but  not  far  enough  to  escape 
the  pest  of  his  vile  tobacco.  That  he  could  carry 
his  character-sketch  to  such  a  pitch — he  who  would 
only  smoke  one  brand  of  cigarette !  It  was  the  last, 
least  touch  of  the  insatiable  artist,  and  it  charmed 
away  what  mortification  there  still  remained  in  me. 
Once  more  I  felt  the  fascination  of  a  comrade  who 
was  forever  dazzling  one  with  a  fresh  and  unsus- 
pected facet  of  his  character. 

As  we  neared  Piccadilly  I  wondered  what  he 
would  do.  Surely  he  was  not  going  into  the  Albany 
like  that?  No,  he  took  another  omnibus  to  Sloane 
Street,  I  sitting  behind  him  as  before.    At  Sloane 

47 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

Street  we  changed  again,  and  were  presently  In  the 
long  lean  artery  of  the  King's  Road.  I  was  now  all 
agog  to  know  our  destination,  nor  was  I  kept  many 
more  minutes  In  doubt.  Raffles  got  down.  I  fol- 
lowed. He  crossed  the  road  and  disappeared  up  a 
dark  turning.  I  pressed  after  him,  and  was  in 
time  to  see  his  coat-tails  as  he  plunged  Into  a  still 
darker  flagged  alley  to  the  right.  He  was  holding 
himself  up  and  stepping  out  like  a  young  man  once 
more;  also,  in  some  subtle  way,  he  already  looked 
less  disreputable.  But  I  alone  was  there  to  see 
him,  the  alley  was  absolutely  deserted,  and  des- 
perately dark.  At  the  further  end  he  opened  a 
door  with  a  latch-key,  and  it  was  darker  yet  within. 

Instlncth^ely  I  drew  back  and  heard  him  chuckle. 
We  could  no  longer  see  each  other. 

"All  right.  Bunny!  There's  no  hanky-panky 
this  time.  These  are  studios,  my  friend,  and  I'm 
one  of  the  lawful  tenants." 

Indeed,  In  another  minute  we  were  In  a  lofty 
room  with  skylight,  easels,  dressing-cupboard,  plat- 
form, and  every  other  adjunct  save  the  signs  of 
actual  labor.  The  first  thing  I  saw,  as  Raffles  lit 
the  gas,  was  its  reflection  in  his  silk  hat  on  the  pegs 
beside  the  rest  of  his  normal  garments. 

"Looking  for  the  works  of  art?"  continued  Raf- 
fles, lighting  a  cigarette  and  beginning  to  divest 

48 


A  Costume  Piece 

himself  of  his  rags.  "I'm  afraid  you  won't  find 
any,  but  there's  the  canvas  I'm  always  going  to 
make  a  start  upon.  I  tell  them  I'm  looking  high 
and  low  for  my  ideal  model.  I  have  the  stove  lit 
on  principle  twice  a  week,  and  look  in  and  leave 
a  newspaper  and  a  smell  of  Sullivans — how  good 
they  are  after  shag!  Meanwhile  I  pay  my  rent 
and  am  a  good  tenant  in  every  way ;  and  it's  a  very 
useful  little  pied-a-terre — there's  no  saying  how 
useful  it  might  be  at  a  pinch.  As  it  is,  the  billy- 
cock comes  in  and  the  topper  goes  out,  and  nobody 
takes  the  slightest  notice  of  either;  at  this  time  of 
night  the  chances  are  that  there's  not  a  soul  in  the 
building  except  ourselves." 

"You  never  told  me  you  went  in  for  disguises," 
said  I,  watching  him  as  he  cleansed  the  grime  from 
his  face  and  hands. 

"No,  Bunny,  I've  treated  you  very  shabbily  all 
round.  There  was  really  no  reason  why  I  shouldn't 
have  shown  you  this  place  a  month  ago,  and  yet 
there  was  no  point  in  my  doing  so,  and  circum- 
stances are  just  conceivable  in  which  it  would  have 
suited  us  both  for  you  to  be  in  genuine  ignorance 
of  my  whereabouts.  I  have  something  to  sleep  on, 
as  you  perceive,  in  case  of  need,  and,  of  course,  my 
name  is  not  Raffles  in  the  King's  Road.  So  you  will 
see  that  one  might  bolt  further  and  fare  worse." 

49 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

"Meanwhile  you  use  the  place  as  a  dressing- 
room?" 

"It  is  my  private  pavilion,"  said  Raffles.  "Dis- 
guises? In  some  cases  they're  half  the  battle,  and 
it's  always  pleasant  to  feel  that,  if  the  worst  comes 
to  the  worst,  you  needn't  necessarily  be  convicted 
under  your  own  name.  Then  they're  indispensable 
in  dealing  with  the  fences.  I  drive  all  my  bargains 
In  the  tongue  and  raiment  of  Shoreditch.  If  I 
didn't  there'd  be  the  very  devil  to  pay  in  blackmail. 
Now,  this  cupboard's  full  of  all  sorts  of  toggery. 
I  tell  the  woman  who  cleans  the  room  that  it's  for 
my  models  when  I  find  'em.  By  the  way,  I  only 
hope  I've  got  something  that'll  fit  you,  for  you'll 
want  a  rig  for  to-morrow  night." 

"To-morrow  night !"  I  exclaimed.  "Why,  what 
do  you  mean  to  do?" 

"The  trick,"  said  Raffles.  "I  intended  writing 
to  you  as  soon  as  I  got  back  to  my  rooms,  to  ask 
you  to  look  me  up  to-morrow  afternoon;  then  I 
was  going  to  unfold  my  plan  of  campaign,  and  take 
you  straight  into  action  then  and  there.  There's 
nothing  like  putting  the  nervous  players  in  first; 
it's  the  sitting  with  their  pads  on  that  upsets  their 
applecart;  that  was  another  of  my  reasons  for 
being  so  confoundedly  close.  You  must  try  to 
forgive  me.      I  couldn't  help  remembering  how 

50 


A  Costume  Piece 

well  you  played  up  last  trip,  without  any  time  to 
weaken  on  it  beforehand.  All  I  want  is  for  you  to 
be  as  cool  and  smart  to-morrow  night  as  you  were 
then;  though,  by  Jove,  there's  no  comparison  be- 
tween the  two  cases!" 

"I  thought  you  would  find  it  so." 

"You  were  right.  I  have.  Mind  you,  I  don't 
say  this  will  be  the  tougher  job  all  round;  we  shall 
probably  get  in  without  any  difficulty  at  all;  it's  the 
getting  out  again  that  may  flummox  us.  That's  the 
worst  of  an  irregular  household!"  cried  Raffles, 
with  quite  a  burst  of  virtuous  Indignation.  "I  as- 
sure you.  Bunny,  I  spent  the  whole  of  Monday 
night  in  the  shrubbery  of  the  garden  next  door, 
looking  over  the  wall,  and,  if  you'll  believe  me, 
somebody  was  about  all  night  long!  I  don't  mean 
the  Kaffirs.  I  don't  believe  they  ever  get  to  bed 
at  all — poor  devils !  No,  I  mean  Rosenthall  him- 
self, and  that  pasty-faced  beast  Purvis.  They  were 
up  and  drinking  from  midnight,  when  they  came 
in,  to  broad  daylight,  when  I  cleared  out.  Even 
then  I  left  them  sober  enough  to  slang  each 
other.  By  the  way,  they  very  nearly  came  to  blows 
in  the  garden,  within  a  few  yards  of  me,  and  I 
heard  something  that  might  come  in  useful  and 
make  Rosenthall  shoot  crooked  at  a  critical  mo- 
ment.   You  know  what  an  I.  D.  B.  is?" 

51 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

"Illicit  Diamond  Buyer?" 

"Exactly.  Well,  it  seems  that  Rosenthal!  was 
one.  He  must  have  let  it  out  to  Purvis  in  his  cups. 
Anyhow,  I  heard  Purvis  taunting  him  with  it,  and 
threatening  him  with  the  breakwater  at  Capetown; 
and  I  begin  to  think  our  friends  are  friend  and  foe. 
But  about  to-morrow  night :  there's  nothing  subtle 
in  my  plan.  It's  simply  to  get  in  while  these  fel- 
lows are  out  on  the  loose,  and  to  lie  low  till  they 
come  back,  and  longer.  If  possible,  we  must  doc- 
tor the  whiskey.  That  would  simplify  the  whole 
thing,  though  it's  not  a  very  sporting  game  to  play; 
still,  we  must  remember  Rosenthall's  revolver;  we 
don't  want  him  to  sign  his  name  on  us.  With  all 
those  Kaffirs  about,  however,  it's  ten  to  one  on  the 
whiskey,  and  a  hundred  to  one  against  us  if  we  go 
looking  for  it.  A  brush  with  the  heathen  would 
spoil  everything,  if  it  did  no  more.  Besides,  there 
are  the  ladies " 

"The  deuce  there  are!" 

"Ladies  with  an  i,  and  the  very  voices  for  rais- 
ing Cain.  I  fear,  I  fear  the  clamor !  It  would  be 
fatal  to  us.  All  contraire,  if  we  can  manage  to 
stow  ourselves  away  unbeknowns,  half  the  battle 
will  be  won.  If  Rosenthall  turns  in  drunk,  it's  a 
purple  diamond  apiece.  If  he  sits  up  sober,  it  may 
be  a  bullet  instead.     We  will  hope  not,  Bunny; 

52 


A  Costume  Piece 

and  all  the  firing  wouldn't  be  on  one  side ;  but  it's 
on  the  knees  of  the  gods." 

And  so  we  left  it  when  we  shook  hands  in  Pic- 
cadilly— not  by  any  means  as  much  later  as  I  could 
have  wished.  Raffles  would  not  ask  me  to  his 
rooms  that  night.  He  said  he  made  it  a  rule  to 
have  a  long  night  before  playing'  cricket  and — 
other  games.  His  final  word  to  me  was  framed  on 
the  same  principle. 

"Mind,  only  one  drink  to-night,  Bunny.  Two 
at  the  outside — as  you  value  your  life — and 
mine!" 

I  remember  my  abject  obedience;  and  the  end- 
less, sleepless  night  it  gave  me ;  and  the  roofs  of  the 
houses  opposite  standing  out  at  last  against  the 
blue-gray  London  dawn.  I  wondered  whether  I 
should  ever  see  another,  and  was  very  hard  on 
myself  for  that  little  expedition  which  I  had  made 
on  my  own  wilful  account. 

It  was  between  eight  and  nine  o'clock  in  the 
evening  when  we  took  up  our  position  in  the  gar- 
den adjoining  that  of  Reuben  Rosenthall;  the 
house  itself  was  shut  up,  thanks  to  the  outrageous 
libertine  next  door,  who,  by  driving  away  the 
neighbors,  had  gone  far  towards  delivering  him- 
self into  our  hands.  Practically  secure  from  sur- 
prise on  that  side,  we  could  watch  our  house  under 

53 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

cover  of  a  wall  just  high  enough  to  see  over,  while 
a  fair  margin  of  shrubs  in  either  garden  afforded 
us  additional  protection.  Thus  entrenched,  we 
had  stood  an  hour,  watching  a  pair  of  lighted  bow- 
windows  with  vague  shadows  flitting  continually 
across  the  blinds,  and  listening  to  the  drawing  of 
corks,  the  clink  of  glasses,  and  a  gradual  crescendo 
of  coarse  voices  within.  Our  luck  seemed  to  have 
deserted  us :  the  owner  of  the  purple  diamonds  was 
dining  at  home  and  dining  at  undue  length.  I 
thought  It  was  a  dinner-party.  Raffles  differed; 
In  the  end  he  proved  right.  Wheels  grated  In  the 
drive,  a  carriage  and  pair  stood  at  the  steps;  there 
was  a  stampede  from  the  dining-room,  and  the 
loud  voices  died  away,  to  burst  forth  presently 
from  the  porch. 

Let  me  make  our  position  perfectly  clear.  We 
were  over  the  wall,  at  the  side  of  the  house,  but  a 
few  feet  from  the  dining-room  windows.  On  our 
right,  one  angle  of  the  building  cut  the  back  lawn 
In  two  diagonally;  on  our  left,  another  angle  just 
permitted  us  to  see  the  jutting  steps  and  the  wait- 
ing carriage.  We  saw  Rosenthall  come  out — saw 
the  glimmer  of  his  diamonds  before  anything. 
Then  came  the  pugilist;  then  a  lady  with  a  head  of 
hair  like  a  bath  sponge ;  then  another,  and  the  party 
was  complete. 

54 


A  Costume  Piece 

Raffles  ducked  and  pulled  me  down  in  great 
excitement. 

"The  ladies  are  going  with  them,"  he  whis- 
pered.    "This  is  great !" 

"That's  better  still." 

"The  Gardenia  !"  the  millionaire  had  bawled. 

"And  that's  best  of  all,"  said  Raffles,  standing 
upright  as  hoofs  and  wheels  crunched  through  the 
gates  and  rattled  off  at  a  fine  speed. 

"Now  what?"  I  whispered,  trembling  with  ex- 
citement. 

"They'll  be  clearing  away.  Yes,  here  come  their 
shadows.  The  drawing-room  windows  open  on 
the  lawn.  Bunny,  it's  the  psychological  moment. 
Where's  that  mask?" 

I  produced  it  with  a  hand  whose  trembling  I 
tried  in  vain  to  still,  and  could  have  died  for  Raffles 
when  he  made  no  comment  on  what  he  could  not 
fail  to  notice.  His  own  hands  were  firm  and  cool 
as  he  adjusted  my  mask  for  me,  and  then  his  own. 

"By  Jove,  old  boy,"  he  whispered  cheerily,; 
"you  look  about  the  greatest  rufl'ian  I  ever  saw ! 
These  masks  alone  will  down  a  nigger,  if  we  meet 
one.  But  I'm  glad  I  remembered  to  tell  you  not  to 
shave.  You'll  pass  for  Whitechapel  if  the  worst 
comes  to  the  worst  and  you  don't  forget  to  talk 
the  lingo.     Better  sulk  like  a  mule  If  you're  not 

55 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

sure  of  it,  and  leave  the  dialogue  to  me;  but,  please 
our  stars,  there  will  be  no  need.  Now,  are  you 
ready?" 

"Quite." 

"Got  your  gag?" 

"Yes." 

"Shooter?" 

"Yes." 

"Then  follow  me." 

In  an  instant  we  were  over  the  wall,  in  another 
on  the  lawn  behind  the  house.  There  was  no  moon. 
The  very  stars  in  their  courses  had  veiled  them- 
selves for  our  benefit.  I  crept  at  my  leader's  heels 
to  some  French  windows  opening  upon  a  shallow 
veranda.     He  pushed.     They  yielded. 

"Luck  again,"  he  whispered;  "nothing  but  luck! 
Now  for  a  light." 

And  the  light  came ! 

A  good  score  of  electric  burners  glowed  red  for 
the  fraction  of  a  second,  then  rained  merciless  white 
beams  into  our  blinded  eyes.  When  we  found  our 
sight  four  revolvers  covered  us,  and  between  two 
of  them  the  colossal  frame  of  Reuben  Rosenthall 
shook  with  a  wheezy  laughter  from  head  to  foot. 

"Good-evening,  boys,"  he  hiccoughed.  "Glad 
to  see  ye  at  last.  Shift  foot  or  finger,  you  on  the 
left,  though,  and  you're  a  dead  boy.     I  mean  you, 

56 


A  Costume  Piece 

you  greaser!"  he  roared  out  at  Raffles.  "I  know 
you.  I've  been  waitin'  for  you.  I've  been  watchin' 
you  all  this  week !  Plucky  smart  you  thought  yer- 
self,  didn't  you?  One  day  beggin',  next  time 
shammin'  tight,  and  next  one  o'  them  old  pals  from 
Kimberley  what  never  come  when  I'm  in.  But  you 
left  the  same  tracks  every  day,  you  buggins,  an' 
the  same  tracks  every  night,  all  round  the  blessed 
premises." 

"All  right,  guv'nor,"  drawled  Raffles;  "don't 
excite.  It's  a  fair  cop.  We  don't  sweat  to  know 
'ow  you  brung  it  orf.  On'y  don't  you  go  for  to 
shoot,  'cos  we  'int  awmed,  s'help  me  Gord!" 

"Ah,  you're  a  knowin'  one,"  said  Rosenthall, 
fingering  his  triggers.  "But  you've  struck  a 
knowin'er." 

"Ho,  yuss,  we  know  all  abaht  thet!  Set  a  thief 
to  ketch  a  thief — ho,  yuss." 

My  eyes  had  torn  themselves  from  the  round 
black  muzzles,  from  the  accursed  diamonds  that 
had  been  our  snare,  the  pasty  pig-face  of  the  over- 
fed pugilist,  and  the  flaming  cheeks  and  hook  nose 
of  Rosenthall  himself.  I  was  looking  beyond  them 
at  the  doorway  filled  with  quivering  silk  and  plush, 
black  faces,  white  eyeballs,  woolly  pates.  But  a 
sudden  silence  recalled  my  attention  to  the  million- 
aire.   And  only  his  nose  retained  its  color. 

57 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

"What  d'ye  mean?"  he  whispered  with  a  hoarse 
oath.  "Spit  it  out,  or,  by  Christmas,  I'll  drill 
you!" 

"Whort  price  thet  brikewater?"  drawled  Raffles 
coolly. 

"Eh?" 

Rosenthall's  revolvers  were  describing  widening 
orbits. 

"Whort  price  thet  brikewater — old  /.  D.  B.f" 

"Where  in  hell  did  you  get  hold  o'  that?"  asked 
Rosenthall,  with  a  rattle  in  his  thick  neck,  meant 
for  mirth, 

"You  may  well  arst,"  says  Raffles.  "It's  all 
over  the  plice  w'ere  /  come  from." 

"Who  can  have  spread  such  rot?" 

"I  dunno,"  says  Raffles;  "arst  the  gen'leman  on 
yer  left;  p'r'aps  'e  knows." 

The  gentleman  on  his  left  had  turned  livid  with 
emotion.  Guilty  conscience  never  declared  itself 
in  plainer  terms.  For  a  moment  his  small  eyes 
bulged  like  currants  in  the  suet  of  his  face;  the 
next,  he  had  pocketed  his  pistols  on  a  professional 
instinct,  and  was  upon  us  with  his  fists. 

"Out  o'  the  light — out  o'  the  light!"  yelled 
Rosenthall  in  a  frenzy. 

He  was  too  late.  No  sooner  had  the  burly  pugi- 
list obstructed  his  fire  than  Raffles  was  through  the 

58 


A  Costume  Piece 

window  at  a  bound;  while  I,  for  standing  still  and 
saying  nothing,  was  scientifically  felled  to  the 
floor. 

I  cannot  have  been  many  moments  without  my 
senses.  When  I  recovered  them  there  was  a  great 
to-do  In  the  garden,  but  I  had  the  drawing-room 
to  myself.  I  sat  up.  Rosenthall  and  Purvis  were 
rushing  about  outside,  cursing  the  Kaffirs  and  nag- 
ging at  each  other. 

"Over  that  wall,  I  tell  yer!" 

"I  tell  you  it  was  this  one.  Can't  you  whistle 
for  the  police?" 

"Police  be  damned!  I've  had  enough  of  the 
blessed  police." 

"Then  we'd  better  get  back  and  make  sure  of 
the  other  rotter." 

"Oh,  make  sure  o'  yer  skin.  That's  what  you'd 
better  do.  Jala,  you  black  hog,  if  I  catch  yoii 
skulkin'.     .     .     ." 

I  never  heard  the  threat.  I  was  creeping  from 
the  drawing-room  on  my  hands  and  knees,  my  own 
revolver  swinging  by  its  steel  ring  from  my  teeth. 

For  an  Instant  I  thought  that  the  hall  also  was 
deserted.  I  was  wrong,  and  I  crept  upon  a  Kaffir 
on  all  fours.  Poor  devil,  I  could  not  bring  myself 
to  deal  him  a  base  blow,  but  I  threatened  him  most 
hideously  with  my  revolver,   and  left  the  white 

59 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

teeth  chattering  in  his  black  head  as  I  took  the 
stairs  three  at  a  time.  Why  I  went  upstairs  in  that 
decisive  fashion,  as  though  it  were  my  only  course, 
I  cannot  explain.  But  garden  and  ground  floor 
seemed  alive  with  men,  and  I  might  have  done 
worse. 

I  turned  into  the  first  room  I  came  to.  It  was 
a  bedroom — empty,  though  lit  up ;  and  never  shall 
I  forget  how  I  started  as  I  entered,  on  encounter- 
ing the  awful  villain  that  was  myself  at  full  length 
in  a  pier-glass !  Masked,  armed,  and  ragged,  I 
was  indeed  fit  carrion  for  a  bullet  or  the  hangman, 
and  to  one  or  the  other  I  made  up  my  mind.  Nev- 
ertheless, I  hid  myself  in  the  wardrobe  behind  the 
mirror;  and  there  I  stood  shivering  and  cursing 
my  fate,  my  folly,  and  Raffles  most  of  all — Raffles 
first  and  last — for  I  daresay  half  an  hour.  Then 
the  wardrobe  door  was  flung  suddenly  open;  they 
had  stolen  into  the  room  without  a  sound;  and  I 
was  hauled  downstairs,  an  ignominious  captive. 

Gross  scenes  followed  in  the  hall;  the  ladies 
were  now  upon  the  stage,  and  at  sight  of  the  des- 
perate criminal  they  screamed  with  one  accord. 
In  truth  I  must  have  given  them  fair  cause,  though 
my  mask  was  now  torn  away  and  hid  nothing  but 
my  left  ear.      Rosenthall  answered  their  shrieks 

60 


A  Costume  Piece 

with  a  roar  for  silence;  the  woman  with  the  bath- 
sponge  hair  swore  at  him  shrilly  in  return;  the 
place  became  a  Babel  impossible  to  describe.  I 
remember  wondering  how  long  it  would  be  before 
the  police  appeared.  Purvis  and  the  ladies  were 
for  calling  them  in  and  giving  me  in  charge  with- 
out delay.  Rosenthal  would  not  hear  of  it.  He 
swore  that  he  would  shoot  man  or  woman  who  left 
his  sight.  He  had  had  enough  of  the  police.  He 
was  not  going  to  have  them  coming  there  to  spoil 
sport;  he  was  going  to  deal  with  me  in  his  own 
way.  With  that  he  dragged  me  from  all  other 
hands,  flung  me  against  a  door,  and  sent  a  bullet 
crashing  through  the  wood  within  an  Inch  of  my 
ear. 

"You  drunken  fool!  It'll  be  murder!"  shouted 
Purvis,  getting  in  the  way  a  second  time. 

"Wha'  do  I  care  ?  He's  armed,  Isn't  he  ?  I  shot 
him  in  self-defence.  It'll  be  a  warning  to 
others.  Will  you  stand  aside,  or  d'ye  want  it 
yourself?" 

"You're  drunk,"  said  Purvis,  still  between  us. 
"I  saw  you  take  a  neat  tumblerful  since  you  come 
in,  and  it's  made  you  drunk  as  a  fool.  Pull  your- 
self together,  old  man.  You  ain't  a-going  to  do 
what  you'll  be  sorry  for." 

6i 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

"Then  I  won't  shoot  at  him,  I'll  only  shoot 
roun'  an'  roun'  the  beggar.  You're  quite  right, 
ole  feller.  Wouldn't  hurt  him.  Great  mishtake. 
Roun'  an'  roun'.     There — like  that!" 

His  freckled  paw  shot  up  over  Purvis's  shoul- 
der, mauve  lightning  came  from  his  ring,  a  red 
flash  from  his  revolver,  and  shrieks  from  the 
women  as  the  reverberations  died  away.  Some 
splinters  lodged  in  my  hair. 

Next  instant  the  prize-fighter  disarmed  him; 
and  I  was  safe  from  the  devil,  but  finally  doomed 
to  the  deep  sea.  A  policeman  was  in  our  midst. 
He  had  entered  through  the  drawing-room  win- 
dow; he  was  an  officer  of  few  words  and  creditable 
promptitude.  In  a  twinkling  he  had  the  handcuffs 
on  my  wrists,  while  the  pugilist  explained  the  situ- 
ation, and  his  patron  reviled  the  force  and  its  rep- 
resentative with  impotent  malignity.  A  fine  watch 
they  kept;  a  lot  of  good  they  did;  coming  in  when 
all  was  over  and  the  whole  household  might  have 
been  murdered  in  their  sleep.  The  officer  only 
deigned  to  notice  him  as  he  marched  me  off. 

"We  know  all  about  you,  sir,"  said  he  con- 
temptuously, and  he  refused  the  sovereign  Purvis 
proffered.  "You  will  be  seeing  me  again,  sir,  at 
Marylebone." 

"Shall  I  come  now?" 

62 


A  Costume  Piece 

"As  you  please,  sir.  1  rather  think  the  other 
gentleman  requires  you  more,  and  I  don't  fancy 
this  young  man  means  to  give  much  trouble." 

"Oh,  I'm  coming  quietly,"  I  said. 

And  I  went. 

In  silence  we  traversed  perhaps  a  hundred  yards. 
It  must  have  been  midnight.  We  did  not  meet  a 
soul.     At  last  I  whispered: 

"How  on  earth  did  you  manage  it?" 

"Purely  by  luck,"  said  Raffles.  "I  had  the  luck 
to  get  clear  away  through  knowing  every  brick  of 
those  back-garden  walls,  and  the  double  luck  to 
have  tfiese  togs  with  the  rest  over  at  Chelsea.  The 
helmet  is  one  of  a  collection  I  made  up  at  Oxford; 
here  it  goes  over  this  wall,  and  we'd  better  carry 
the  coat  and  belt  before  we  meet  a  real  officer.  I 
got  them  once  for  a  fancy  ball — ostensibly — and 
thereby  hangs  a  yarn.  I  always  thought  they 
might  come  in  useful  a  second  time.  My  chief 
crux  to-night  was  getting  rid  of  the  hansom  that 
brought  me  back.  I  sent  him  off  to  Scotland  Yard 
with  ten  bob  and  a  special  message  to  good  old 
Mackenzie.  The  whole  detective  department  will 
be  at  Rosenthall's  in  about  half  an  hour.  Of 
course,  I  speculated  on  our  gentleman's  hatred  of 
the  police — another  huge  slice  of  luck.  If  you'd 
got  away,  well  and  good;  if  not,  I  felt  he  was  the 

63 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

man  to  play  with  his  mouse  as  long  as  possible. 
Yes,  Bunny,  it's  been  more  of  a  costume  piece  than 
I  intended,  and  we've  come  out  of  It  with  a  good 
deal  less  credit.  But,  by  Jove,  we're  jolly  lucky 
to  have  come  out  of  it  at  all !" 


154 


Gentlemen  and  Players 

OLD  Raffles  may  or  may  not  have  been  an  ex- 
ceptional criminal,  but  as  a  cricketer  I  dare 
swear  he  was  unique.  Himself  a  dangerous  bat,  a 
brilliant  field,  and  perhaps  the  very  finest  slow 
bowler  of  his  decade,  '^e  took  incredibly  little  in- 
terest in  the  game  at  large.  He  never  went  up  to 
Lord's  without  his  cricket-bag,  or  showed  the 
slightest  interest  in  the  result  of  a  match  in  which 
he  was  not  himself  engaged.  Nor  was  this  mere 
hateful  egotism  on  his  part.  He  professed  to  have 
lost  all  enthusiasm  for  the  game,  and  to  keep  it  up 
only  from  the  very  lowest  motives. 

"Cricket,"  said  Raffles,  "like  everything  else,  is 
good  enough  sport  until  you  discover  a  better.  As 
a  source  of  excitement  it  Isn't  In  It  with  other  things 
you  wot  of.  Bunny,  and  the  Involuntary  compari- 
son becomes  a  bore.  What's  the  satisfaction  of 
taking  a  man's  wicket  when  you  want  his  spoons  ? 
Still,  if  you  can  bowl  a  bit  your  low  cunning  won't 
get  rusty,  and  always  looking  for  the  weak  spot's 
just  the  kind  of  mental  exercise  one  wants.  Yes, 
perhaps    there's    some    affinity    between    the    two 

65 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

things  after  all.  But  I'd  chuck  up  cricket  to-mor- 
row, Bunny,  if  it  wasn't  for  the  glorious  protec- 
tion it  affords  a  person  of  my  proclivities." 

"How  so?"  said  I.  "It  brings  you  before  the 
public,  I  should  have  thought,  far  more  than  is 
either  safe  or  wise." 

"My  dear  Bunny,  that's  exactly  where  you  make 
a  mistake.  To  follow  Crime  with  reasonable  im- 
punity you  simply  must  have  a  parallel,  ostensible 
career — the  more  public  the  better.  The  principle 
is  obvious.  Mr.  Peace,  of  pious  memor}',  dis- 
armed suspicion  by  acquiring  a  local  reputation  for 
playing  the  fiddle  and  taming  animals,  and  It's  my 
profound  conviction  that  Jack  the  Ripper  was  a 
really  eminent  public  man,  whose  speeches  were 
very  likely  reported  alongside  his  atrocities.  Fill 
the  bin  In  some  prominent  part,  and  you'll  never 
be  suspected  of  doubling  it  with  another  of  equal 
prominence.  That's  why  I  want  you  to  cultivate 
journalism,  my  boy,  and  sign  all  you  can.  And 
it's  the  one  and  only  reason  why  I  don't  burn  my 
bats  for  firewood." 

Nevertheless,  when  he  did  play  there  was  no 
keener  performer  on  the  field,  nor  one  more  anx- 
ious to  do  well  for  his  side.  I  remember  how  he 
went  to  the  nets,  before  the  first  match  of  the  sea- 
son, with  his  pocket  full  of  sovereigns,  which  he 

66 


Gentlemen  and  Players 

put  on  the  stumps  instead  of  bails.  It  was  a  sight 
to  see  the  professionals  bowling  like  demons  for 
the  hard  cash,  for  whenever  a  stump  was  hit  a 
pound  was  tossed  to  the  bowler  and  another  bal- 
anced in  its  stead,  while  one  man  took  £3  with  a 
ball  that  spreadeagled  the  wicket.  Raffles's  prac- 
tice cost  him  either  eight  or  nine  sovereigns;  but 
he  had  absolutely  first-class  bowling  all  the  time; 
and  he  made  fifty-seven  runs  next  day. 

It  became  my  pleasure  to  accompany  him  to  all 
his  matches,  to  watch  every  ball  he  bowled,  or 
played,  or  fielded,  and  to  sit  chatting  with  him  in 
the  pavilion  when  he  was  doing  none  of  these  three 
things.  You  might  have  seen  us  there,  side  by 
side,  during  the  greater  part  of  the  Gentlemen's 
first  innings  against  the  Players  (who  had  lost 
the  toss)  on  the  second  Monday  in  July.  We  were 
to  be  seen,  but  not  heard,  for  Raffles  had  failed  to 
score,  and  was  uncommonly  cross  for  a  player  who 
cared  so  little  for  the  game.  Merely  taciturn  with 
me,  he  was  positively  rude  to  more  than  one  mem- 
ber who  wanted  to  know  how  it  had  happened, 
or  who  ventured  to  commiserate  him  on  his  luck; 
there  he  sat,  with  a  straw  hat  tilted  over  his  nose 
and  a  cigarette  stuck  between  lips  that  curled  dis- 
agreeably at  every  advance.  I  was  therefore  much 
surprised  when  a  young  fellow  of  the  exquisite 

67 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

type  came  and  squeezed  himself  in  between  us,  and 
met  with  a  perfectly  civil  reception  despite  the 
liberty,  I  did  not  know  the  boy  by  sight,  nor  did 
Raffles  introduce  us;  but  their  conversation  pro- 
claimed at  once  a  slightness  of  acquaintanceship 
and  a  license  on  the  lad's  part  which  combined  to 
puzzle  me.  Mystification  reached  its  height  when 
Raffles  was  informed  that  the  other's  father  was 
anxious  to  meet  him,  and  he  instantly  consented  to 
gratify  that  whim. 

"He's  in  the  Ladies'  Enclosure.  Will  you  come 
round  now?" 

"With  pleasure,"  says  Raffles.  "Keep  a  place 
for  me,  Bunny." 

And  they  were  gone. 

"Young  Crowley,"  said  some  voice  further 
back.     "Last  year's  Harrow  Eleven." 

"I  remember  him.     Worst  man  in  the  team." 

"Keen  cricketer,  however.  Stopped  till  he  was 
twenty  to  get  his  colors.  Governor  made  him. 
Keen  breed.     Oh,  pretty,  sir!     Very  pretty!" 

The  game  was  boring  me.  I  only  came  to  see 
old  Raffles  perform.  Soon  I  was  looking  wist- 
fully for  his  return,  and  at  length  I  saw  him 
beckoning  me  from  the  palings  to  the  right. 

"Want  to  introduce  you  to  old  Amcrsteth,"  he 
whispered,  when  I  joined  him.    "They've  a  cricket 

68 


Gentlemen  and  Players 

week  next  month,  when  this  boy  Crowley  comes  of 
age,  and  we've  both  got  to  go  down  and  play." 

"Both !"  I  echoed.     "But  I'm  no  cricketer!" 

"Shut  up,"  says  Raffles.  "Leave  that  to  me. 
I've  been  lying  far  all  I'm  worth,"  he  added 
sepulchrally  as  we  reached  the  bottom  of  the  steps. 
"I  trust  to  you  not  to  give  the  show  away." 

There  was  a  gleam  in  his  eye  that  I  knew  well 
enough  elsewhere,  but  was  unprepared  for  in  those 
healthy,  sane  surroundings;  and  it  was  with  very 
definite  misgivings  and  surmises  that  I  followed 
the  Zingari  blazer  through  the  vast  flower-bed  of 
hats  and  bonnets  that  bloomed  beneath  the  ladies' 
awning. 

Lord  Amersteth  was  a  fine-looking  man  with  a 
short  mustache  and  a  double  chin.  He  received 
me  with  much  dry  courtesy,  through  which,  how- 
ever, it  was  not  difficult  to  read  a  less  flattering 
tale.  I  was  accepted  as  the  inevitable  appendage 
of  the  invaluable  Raffles,  with  whom  I  felt  deeply 
incensed  as  I  made  my  bow. 

"I  have  been  bold  enough,"  said  Lord  Amer- 
steth, "to  ask  one  of  the  Gentlemen  of  England 
to  come  down  and  play  some  rustic  cricket  for  us 
next  month.  He  is  kind  enough  to  say  that  he 
would  have  liked  nothing  better,  but  for  this  little 

fishing  expedition  of  yours,  Mr. ,  Mr. ," 

69 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

and  Lord  Amersteth  succeeded  in  remembering 
my  name. 

It  was,  of  course,  the  first  I  had  ever  heard  of 
that  fishing  expedition,  but  I  made  haste  to  say 
that  it  could  easily,  and'  should  certainly,  be  put 
off.  Rafiies  gleamed  approval  through  his  eye- 
lashes.    Lord  Amersteth  bowed  and  shrugged. 

"You're  very  good,  I'm  sure,"  said  he.  "But 
I  understand  you're  a  cricketer  yourself?" 

"He  was  one  at  school,"  said  Raffles,  with  in- 
famous readiness. 

"Not  a  real  cricketer,"  I  was  stammering  mean- 
while. 

"In  the  eleven?"  said  Lord  Amersteth. 

"I'm  afraid  not,"  said  I. 

"But  only  just  out  of  it,"  declared  Raffles,  to  my 
horror. 

"Well,  well,  we  can't  all  play  for  the  Gentle- 
men," said  Lord  Amersteth  slyly.  "My  son  Crow- 
ley only  just  scraped  into  the  eleven  at  Harrow, 
and  he's  going  to  play.  I  may  even  come  in  myseli 
at  a  pinch ;  so  you  won't  be  the  only  duffer,  if  you 
are  one,  and  I  shall  be  very  glad  if  you  will  come 
down  and  help  us  too.  You  shall  flog  a  stream 
before  breakfast  and  after  dinner,  if  you  like." 
.  "I  should  be  very  proud,"  I  was  beginning,  as 
the  mere  prelude  to  resolute  excuses;  but  the  eye 

70 


Gentlemen  and  Players 

of  Raffles  opened  wide  upon  me;  and  I  hesitated 
weakly,  to  be  duly  lost. 

"Then  that's  settled,"  said  Lord  Amersteth, 
with  the  slightest  suspicion  of  grimness.  "It's  to 
be  a  little  week,  you  know,  when  my  son  cbmes  of 
age.  We  play  the  Free  Foresters,  the  Dorsetshire 
Gentlemen,  and  probably  some  local  lot  as  well. 
But  Mr.  Raffles  will  tell  you  all  about  it,  and 
Crowley  shall  write.  Another  wicket !  By  Jove, 
they're  all  out !  Then  I  rely  on  you  both."  And, 
with  a  little  nod.  Lord  Amersteth  rose  and  sidled 
to  the  gangway. 

Raffles  rose  also,  but  I  caught  the  sleeve  of  his 
blazer. 

"What  are  you  thinking  of?"  I  whispered 
savagely.  "I  was  nowhere  near  the  eleven.  I'm 
no  sort  of  cricketer.  I  shall  have  to  get  out  of 
this!" 

"Not  you,"  he  whispered  back.  "You  needn't 
play,  but  come  you  must.  If  you  wait  for  me  after 
half-past  six  I'll  tell  you  why." 

But  I  could  guess  the  reason ;  and  I  am  ashamed 
to  say  that  it  revolted  me  much  less  than  did  the 
notion  of  making  a  public  fool  of  myself  on  a 
cricket-field.  My  gorge  rose  at  this  as  it  no  longer 
rose  at  crime,  and  it  was  in  no  tranquil  humor 
that  I  strolled  about  the  ground  while  Raffles  dis- 

71 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

appeared  in  the  pavilion.  Nor  was  my  annoy- 
ance lessened  by  a  little  meeting  I  witnessed  be- 
tween young  Crowley  and  his  father,  who  shrugged 
as  he  stopped  and  stooped  to  convey  some  Informa- 
tion which  made  the  young  man  look  a  little  blank. 
It  may  have  been  pure  self-consciousness  on  my 
part,  but  I  could  have  sworn  that  the  trouble  was 
their  inability  to  secure  the  great  Raffles  without 
his  insignificant  friend. 

Then  the  bell  rang,  and  I  climbed  to  the  top  of 
the  pavilion  to  watch  Raffles  bowl.  No  subleties 
are  lost  up  there;  and  if  ever  a  bowler  was  full  of 
them,  it  was  A.  J.  Raffles  on  this  day,  as,  indeed,  all 
the  cricket  world  remembers.  One  had  not  to  be 
a  cricketer  oneself  to  appreciate  his  perfect  com- 
mand of  pitch  and  break,  his  beautifully  easy 
action,  which  never  varied  with  the  varying  pace, 
his  great  ball  on  the  leg-stump — his  dropping 
head-ball — in  a  word,  the  infinite  ingenuity  of  that 
versatile  attack.  It  was  no  mere  exhibition  of 
athletic  prowess,  it  was  an  intellectual  treat,  and 
one  with  a  special  significance  in  my  eyes.  I  saw 
the  "affinity  between  the  two  things,"  saw  it  in 
that  afternoon's  tireless  warfare  against  the  flower 
of  professional  cricket.  It  was  not  that  Raffles 
took  many  wickets  for  few  runs;  he  was  too  fine 
a  bowler  to  mind  being  hit;  and  time  was  short, 

72 


Gentlemen  and  Players 

and  the  wicket  good.  What  I  admired,  and  what 
I  remember,  was  the  combination  of  resource  and 
cunning,  of  patience  and  precision,  of  head-work 
and  handiwork,  which  made  every  over  an  artistic 
whole.  It  was  all  so  characteristic  of  that  other 
Raffles  whom  I  alone  knew ! 

"I  felt  like  bowling  this  afternoon,"  he  told  me 
later  in  the  hansom.  "With  a  pitch  to  help  me, 
I'd  have  done  something  big;  as  it  is,  three  for 
forty-one,  out  of  the  four  that  fell,  isn't  so  bad 
for  a  slow  bowler  on  a  plumb  wicket  against  those 
fellows.  But  I  felt  venomous !  Nothing  riles  me 
more  than  being  asked  about  for  my  cricket  as 
though  I  were  a  pro.  myself." 

"Then  why  on  earth  go?" 

"To  punish  them,  and — because  we  shall  be 
jolly  hard  up.  Bunny,  before  the  season's 
over!" 

"Ah !"  said  I.     "I  thought  it  was  that." 

"Of  course,  it  was !  It  seems  they're  going  to 
have  the  very  devil  of  a  week  of  it — balls — 
dinner  parties — swagger  house  party — general 
junketings — and  obviously  a  houseful  of  diamonds 
as  well.  Diamonds  galore !  As  a  general  rule 
nothing  would  induce  mc  to  abuse  my  position  as 
a  guest.  I've  never  done  it.  Bunny.  But  In  this 
case    we're    engaged    like    the    waiters    and   the 

73 


Gentlemen  and  Players 

been  more  the  instinct  of  the  criminal  than  the 
judgment  of  the  man. 

It  was  on  Monday,  the  tenth  of  August,  that  we 
were  due  at  Milchester  Abbey,  Dorset;  and  the 
beginning  of  the  month  found  us  cruising  about 
that  very  county,  with  fly-rods  actually  in  our 
hands.  The  idea  was-  that  we  should  acquire  at 
once  a  local  reputation  as  decent  fishermen,  and 
some  knowledge  of  the  countryside,  with  a  view 
to  further  and  more  deliberate  operations  in  the 
event  of  an  unprofitable  week.  There  was  another 
idea  which  Raffles  kept  to  himself  until  he  had  got 
me  down  there.  Then  one  day  he  produced  a 
cricket-ball  in  a  meadow  we  were  crossing,  and 
threw  me  catches  for  an  hour  together.  More 
hours  he  spent  in  bowling  to  me  on  the  nearest 
green;  and,  if  I  was  never  a  cricketer,  at  least  I 
came  nearer  to  being  one,  by  the  end  of  that  week, 
than  ever  before  or  since. 

Incident  began  early  on  the  Monday.  We  had 
sallied  forth  from  a  desolate  little  junction  within 
quite  a  few  miles  of  Milchester,  had  been  caught 
in  a  shower,  had  run  for  shelter  to  a  wayside  inn. 
A  florid,  overdressed  man  was  drinking  in  the 
parlor,  and  I  could  have  sworn  it  was  at  the  sight 
of  him  that  Raffles  recoiled  on  the  threshold,  and 
afterwards  insisted  on    returning    to    the    station 

75 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

band,  and  by  heaven  we'll  take  our  toll!  Let's 
have  a  quiet  dinner  somewhere  and  talk  it 
over." 

"It  seems  rather  a  vulgar  sort  of  theft,"  I  could 
not  help  saying;  and  to  this,  my  single  protest, 
Raffles  instantly  assented. 

"It  is  a  vulgar  sort,"  said  he;  "but  I  can't  help 
that.  We're  getting  vulgarly  hard  up  again,  and 
there's  an  end  on  't.  Besides,  these  people  deserve 
it,  and  can  afford  it.  And  don't  you  run  away  with 
the  idea  that  all  will  be  plain  sailing;  nothing  will 
be  easier  than  getting  some  stuff,  and  nothing 
harder  than  avoiding  all  suspicion,  as,  of  course, 
we  must.  We  may  come  away  with  no  more  than 
a  good  working  plan  of  the  premises.  Who 
knows?  In  any  case  there's  weeks  of  thinking  in 
it  for  you  and  me." 

But  with  those  weeks  I  will  not  weary  you  fur- 
ther than  by  remarking  that  the  "thinking,"  was 
done  entirely  by  Raffles,  who  did  not  always  trouble 
to  communicate  hi^  thoughts  to  me.  His  reticence, 
however,  was  no  longer  an  irritant.  I  began  to 
accept  it  as  a  necessary  convention  of  these  little 
enterprises.  And,  after  our  last  adventure  of  the 
kind,  more  especially  after  its  denouement,  my 
trust  in  Raffles  was  much  too  solid  to  be  shaken  by 
a  want  of  trust  in  me,  which  I  still  believe  to  have 

74 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

through  the  rain.  He  assured  me,  however,  that 
the  odor  of  stale  ale  had  almost  knocked  him  down. 
And  I  had  to  make  what  I  could  of  his  speculative, 
downcast  eyes  and  knitted  brows. 

Milchester  Abbey  is  a  gray,  quadrangular  pile, 
deep-set  in  rich  woody  country,  and  twinkling  with 
triple  rows  of  quaint  windows,  every  one  of  which 
seemed  alight  as  we  drove  up  just  in  time  to  dress 
for  dinner.  The  carriage  had  whirled  us  under 
I  know  not  how  many  triumphal  arches  in  process 
of  construction,  and  past  the  tents  and  flag-poles 
of  a  juicy-looking  cricket-field,  on  which  Raffles 
undertook  to  bowl  up  to  his  reputation.  But  the 
chief  signs  of  festival  were  within,  where  we  found 
an  enormous  house-party  assembled,  including 
more  persons  of  pomp,  majesty,  and  dominion  than 
I  had  ever  encountered  in  one  room  before.  I  con- 
fess I  felt  overpowered.  Our  errand  and  my  own 
pretences  combined  to  rob  me  of  an  address  upon 
which  I  have  sometimes  plumed  myself;  and  I  have 
a  grim  recollection  of  my  nervous  relief  when  din- 
ner was  at  last  announced.  I  little  knew  what  an 
ordeal  it  was  to  prove. 

I  had  taken  in  a  much  less  formidable  young 
lady  than  might  have  fallen  to  my  lot.  Indeed  I 
began  by  blessing  my  good  fortune  in  this  respect. 
Miss  Melhuish  was  merely  the  rector's  daughter, 

7^ 


Gentlemen  and  Players 

and  she  had  only  been  asked  to  make  an  even  num- 
ber. She  informed  me  of  both  facts  before  the 
soup  reached  us,  and  her  subsequent  conversation 
was  characterized  by  the  same  engaging  candor. 
It  exposed  what  was  httle  short  of  a  mania  for 
imparting  information.  I  had  simply  to  listen,  to 
nod,  and  to  be  thankful.  When  I  confessed  to 
knowing  very  few  of  those  present,  even  by  sight, 
my  entertaining  companion  proceeded  to  tell  me 
who  everybody  was,  beginning  on  my  left  and 
working  conscientiously  round  to  her  right.  This 
lasted  quite  a  long  time,  and  really  interested  me; 
but  a  great  deal  that  followed  did  not,  and,  ob- 
viously to  recapture  my  unworthy  attention,  Miss 
Melhuish  suddenly  asked  me.  In  a  sensational 
whisper,  whether  I  could  keep  a  secret. 

I  said  I  thought  I  might,  whereupon  another 
question  followed,  in  still  lower  and  more  thrilling 
accents : 

"Are  you  afraid  of  burglars?" 

Burglars!  I  was  roused  at  last.  The  word 
stabbed  me.     I  repeated  it  In  horrified  query. 

"So  I've  found  something  to  Interest  you  at 
last!"  said  Miss  Melhuish,  in  naive  triumph. 
"Yes — burglars!  But  don't  speak  so  loud.  It's 
supposed  to  be  kept  a  great  secret.  I  really 
oughtn't  to  tell  you  at  all !" 

77 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

"But  what  is  tliere  to  tell?"  I  whispered  with 
satisfactory  impatience. 

"You  promise  not  to  speak  of  it?" 

"Of  course!" 

"Well,  then,  there  are  burglars  in  the  neighbor- 
hood." 

"Have  they  committed  any  robberies?" 

"Not  yet." 

"Then  how  do  you  know?'* 

"They've  been  seen.  In  the  district.  Two  well- 
known  London  thieves!" 

Two !  I  looked  at  Raffles.  I  had  done  so  often 
during  the  evening,  envying  him  his  high  spirits, 
his  iron  nerve,  his  buoyant  wit,  his  perfect  ease 
and  self-possession.  But  now  I  pitied  him ;  through 
all  my  own  terror  and  consternation,  I  pitied  him 
as  he  sat  eating  and  drinking,  and  laughing  and 
talking,  without  a  cloud  of  fear  or  of  embarrass- 
ment on  his  handsome,  taking,  daredevil  face.  I 
caught  up  my  champagne  and  emptied  the  glass. 

"Who  has  seen  them?"  I  then  asked  calmly. 

"A  detective.  They  were  traced  down  from 
town  a  few  days  ago.  They  are  believed  to  have 
designs  on  the  Abbey!" 

"But  why  aren't  diey  run  in?" 

"Exactly  what  I  asked  papa  on  the  way  here  this 
evening;  he  says  there  is  no  warrant  out  against 

78 


Gentlemen  and  Players 

the  men  at  present,  and  all  that  can  be  done  is  to 
watch  their  movements." 

"Oh!  so  they  are  being  watched?" 

"Yes,  by  a  detective  who  is  down  here  on  pur- 
pose. And  I  heard  Lord  Amersteth  tell  papa  that 
they  had  been  seen  this  afternoon  at  Warbeck 
Junction!" 

The  very  place  where  Raffles  and  I  had  been 
caught  in  the  rain!  Our  stampede  from  the  inn 
was  now  explained;  on  the  other  hand,  I  was  no 
longer  to  be  taken  by  surprise  by  anything  that  my 
companion  might  have  to  tell  me;  and  I  succeeded 
in  looking  her  in  the  face  with  a  smile. 

"This  is  really  quite  exciting,  Miss  Melhuish," 
said  I.  "May  I  ask  how  you  come  to  know  so 
much  about  it?" 

"It's  papa,"  was  the  confidential  reply.  "Lord 
Amersteth  consulted  him,  and  he  consulted  me. 
But  for  goodness'  sake  don't  let  it  get  about!  I 
can't  think  what  tempted  me  to  tell  you !" 

"You  may  trust  me.  Miss  Melhuish.  But — 
aren't  you  frightened?" 

Miss  Melhuish  giggled. 

"Not  a  bit!  They  won't  come  to  the  rectory. 
There's  nothing  for  them  there.  But  look  round 
the  table :  look  at  the  diamonds :  look  at  old  Lady 
Melrose's  necklace  alone!" 

79 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

The  Dowager  Marchioness  of  Melrose  was  one 
of  the  few  persons  whom  It  had  been  unnecessary 
to  point  out  to  me.  She  sat  on  Lord  Amersteth's 
right,  flourishing  her  ear-trumpet,  and  drinking 
champagne  with  her  usual  notorious  freedom,  as 
dissipated  and  kindly  a  dame  as  the  world  has  ever 
seen.  It  was  a  necklace  of  diamonds  and  sapphires 
that  rose  and  fell  about  her  ample  neck. 

"They  say  it's  worth  five  thousand  pounds  at 
least,"  continued  my  companion.  "Lady  Mar- 
garet told  me  so  this  morning  (that's  Lady  Mar- 
garet next  your  Mr.  Raffles,  you  know) ;  and  the 
old  dear  will  wear  them  every  night.  Think  what 
a  haul  they  would  be !  No;  we  don't  feel  in  imme- 
diate danger  at  the  rectory." 

When  the  ladies  rose,  Miss  Melhuish  bound  me 
to  fresh  vows  of  secrecy;  and  left  me,  I  should 
think,  with  some  remorse  for  her  indiscretion,  but 
more  satisfaction  at  the  importance  which  it  had 
undoubtedly  given  her  in  my  eyes.  The  opinion 
may  smack  of  vanity,  though,  in  reality,  the  very 
springs  of  conversation  reside  In  that  same  human, 
universal  itch  to  thrill  the  auditor.  The  peculi- 
arity of  Miss  Melhuish  was  that  she  must  be  thrill- 
ing at  all  costs.  And  thrilling  she  had  surely 
been. 

I  spare  you  my  feelings  of  the  next  two  hours. 
80 


Gentlemen  and  Players 

I  tried  hard  to  get  a  word  with  Raffles,  but  again 
and  again  I  failed.  In  the  dining-room  he  and 
Crowley  lit  their  cigarettes  with  the  same  match, 
and  had  their  heads  together  all  the  time.  In  the 
drawing-room  I  had  the  mortification  of  hearing 
him  talk  interminable  nonsense  Into  the  ear-trumpet 
of  Lady  Melrose,  whom  he  knew  in  town.  Lastly, 
in  the  billiard-room,  they  had  a  great  and  lengthy 
pool,  while  I  sat  aloof  and  chafed  more  than  ever 
In  the  company  of  a  very  serious  Scotchman,  who 
had  arrived  since  dinner,  and  who  would  talk  of 
nothing  but  the  recent  improvements  In  Instanta- 
neous photography.  He  had  not  come  to  play  In 
the  matches  (he  told  me),  but  to  obtain  for  Lord 
Amersteth  such  a  series  of  cricket  photographs  as 
had  never  been  taken  before;  whether  as  an  ama- 
teur or  a  professional  photographer  I  was  unable 
to  determine.  I  remember,  however,  seeking  dis- 
traction in  little  bursts  of  resolute  attention  to  the 
conversation  of  this  bore.  And  so  at  last  the 
long  ordeal  ended;  glasses  were  emptied,  men 
said  good-night,  and  I  followed  Raffles  to  his 
room. 

"It's  all  up !"  I  gasped,  as  he  turned  up  the  gas 
and  I  shut  the  door.  "We're  being  watched. 
We've  been  followed  down  from  town.  There's 
a  detective  here  on  the  spot !" 

8i 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

"How  do  you  know?"  asked  Raffles,  turning 
upon  me  quite  sharply,  but  without  the  least  dis- 
may.   And  I  told  him  how  I  knew. 

"Of  course,"  I  added,  "it  was  the  fellow  we  saw 
in  the  inn  this  afternoon." 

"The  detective?"  said  Raffles.  "Do  you  mean 
to  say  you  don't  know  a  detective  when  you  see  one, 
Bunny?" 

"If  that  wasn't  the  fellow,  which  is?" 

Raffles  shook  his  head. 

"To  think  that  you've  been  talking  to  him  for 
the  last  hour  in  the  billiard-room  and  couldn't  spot 
what  he  was!" 

"The  Scotch  photographer " 

I  paused  aghast. 

"Scotch  he  is,"  said  Raffles,  "and  photog- 
rapher he  may  be.  He  is  also  Inspector  Mac- 
kenzie of  Scotland  Yard  —  the  very  man  I  sent 
the  message  to  that  night  last  April.  And 
you  couldn't  spot  who  he  was  in  a  whole  hour! 
O  Bunny,  Bunny,  you  were  never  built  for 
crime!" 

"But,"  said  I,  "if  that  was  Mackenzie,  who  was 
the  fellow  you  bolted  from  at  Warbeck?" 

"The  man  he's  watching." 

"But  he's  watching  us!" 

Raffles  looked  at  me  with  a  pitying  eye,  and 
82 


Gentlemen  and  Players 

shook  his  head  again  before  handing  me  his  open 
cigarette-case. 

"I  don't  know  whether  smoking's  forbidden  in 
one's  bedroom,  but  you'd  better  take  one  of  these 
and  stand  tight,  Bunny,  because  I'm  going  to  say 
something  offensive." 

I  helped  myself  with  a  laugh. 

"Say  what  you  like,  my  dear  fellow,  if  it  really 
isn't  you  and  I  that  Mackenzie's  after." 

"Well,  then,  it  isn't,  and  it  couldn't  be,  and  no- 
body but  a  born  Bunny  would  suppose  for  a  mo- 
ment that  it  was  !  Do  you  seriously  think  he  would 
sit  there  and  knowingly  watch  his  man  playing 
pool  under  his  nose?  Well,  he  might;  he's  a  cool 
hand,  Mackenzie;  but  I'm  not  cool  enough  to  win 
a  pool  under  such  conditions.  At  least  I  don't 
think  I  am;  it  would  be  interesting  to  see.  The 
situation  wasn't  free  from  strain  as  it  was,  though 
I  knew  he  wasn't  thinking  of  us.  Crowley  told 
me  all  about  it  after  dinner,  you  see,  and  then  I'd 
seen  one  of  the  men  for  myself  this  afternoon. 
You  thought  it  was  a  detective  who  made  me  turn 
tail  at  that  inn.  I  really  don't  know  why  I  didn't 
tell  you  at  the  time,  but  it  was  just  the  opposite. 
That  loud,  red-faced  brute  is  one  of  the  cleverest 
thieves  in  London,  and  I  once  had  a  drink  with 
him  and  our  mutual  fence.     I  was  an  Eastender 

83 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

from  tongue  to  toe  at  the  moment,  but  you  will 
understand  that  I  don't  run  unnecessary  risks  of 
recognition  by  a  brute  like  that." 

"He's  not  alone,  I  hear." 

"By  no  means;  there's  at  least  one  other  man 
with  him;  and  it's  suggested  that  there  may  be  an 
accomplice  here  in  the  house." 

"Did  Lord  Crowley  tell  you  so?" 

"Crowley  and  the  champagne  between  them. 
In  confidence,  of  course,  just  as  your  girl  told  you; 
but  even  in  confidence  he  never  let  on  about  Mac- 
kenzie. He  told  me  there  was  a  detective  in  the 
background,  but  that  was  all.  Putting  him  up  as 
a  guest  Is  evidently  their  big  secret,  to  be  kept 
from  the  other  guests  because  it  might  offend  them, 
but  more  particularly  from  the  servants  whom  he's 
here  to  watch.  That's  my  reading  of  the  situation, 
Bunny,  and  you  will  agree  with  me  that  it's  infi- 
nitely more  interesting  than  we  could  have  im- 
agined it  would  prove." 

"But  infinitely  more  difficult  for  us,"  said  I, 
with  a  sigh  of  pusillanimous  relief.  "Our  hands 
are  tied  for  this  week,  at  all  events." 

"Not  necessarily,  my  dear  Bunny,  though  I  ad- 
mit that  the  chances  are  against  us.  Yet  I'm  not 
so  sure  of  that  either.  There  are  all  sorts  of  possi- 
bilities in  these  three-cornered  combinations.     Set 

84 


Gentlemen  and  Players 

A  to  watch  B,  and  he  won't  have  an  eye  left  for 
C.  That's  the  obvious  theory,  but  then  Mac- 
kenzie's a  very  big  A.  I  should  be  sorry  to  have 
any  boodle  about  me  with  that  man  In  the  house. 
Yet  it  would  be  great  to  nip  in  between  A  and  B 
and  score  off  them  both  at  once !  It  would  be 
worth  a  risk,  Bunny,  to  do  that ;  it  would  be  worth 
risking  something  merely  to  take  on  old  hands  like 
B  and  his  men  at  their  own  old  game!  Eh, 
Bunny?  That  would  be  something  like  a  match. 
Gentlemen  and  Players  at  single  wicket,  by 
Jove!" 

His  eyes  were  brighter  than  I  had  known  them 
for  many  a  day.  They  shone  with  the  perverted 
enthusiasm  which  was  roused  In  him  only  by  the 
contemplation  of  some  new  audacity.  He  kicked 
off  his  shoes  and  began  pacing  his  room  with  noise- 
less rapidity;  not  since  the  night  of  the  Old  Bohe- 
mian dinner  to  Reuben  Rosenthall  had  Raffles  ex- 
hibited such  excitement  in  my  presence;  and  I  was 
not  sorry  at  the  moment  to  be  reminded  of  the 
fiasco  to  v\^hlch  that  banquet  had  been  the  prelude. 

"My  dear  A.  J.,"  said  I  in  his  very  own  tone, 
"you're  far  too  fond  of  the  uphill  game;  you  will 
eventually  fall  a  victim  to  the  sporting  spirit  and 
nothing  else.  Take  a  lesson  from  our  last  escape, 
and  fly  lower  as  you  value  our  skins.     Study  the 

85 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

house  as  much  as  you  like,  but  do — not — go  and 
shove  your  head  Into  Mackenzie's  mouth!" 

My  wealth  of  metaphor  brought  him  to  a  stand- 
still, with  his  cigarette  between  his  fingers  and  a 
grin  beneath  his  shining  eyes. 

"You're  quite  right,  Bunny.  I  won't.  I  really 
won't.  Yet — you  saw  old  Lady  Melrose's  neck- 
lace ?  I've  been  wanting  it  for  years !  But  I'm  not 
going  to  play  the  fool;  honor  bright,  I'm  not;  yet 
— by  Jove ! — to  get  to  windward  of  the  professors 
and  Mackenzie  too!  It  would  be  a  great  game, 
Bunny,  it  would  be  a  great  game!" 

"Well,  you  mustn't  play  it  this  week." 

"No,  no,  I  won't.  But  I  wonder  how  the  pro- 
fessors think  of  going  to  work  ?  That's  what  one 
wants  to  know.  I  wonder  if  they've  really  got  an 
accomplice  in  the  house?  How  I  wish  I  knew 
their  game!  But  it's  all  right,  Bunny;  don't  you 
be  jealous;  it  shall  be  as  you  wish." 

And  with  that  assurance  I  went  off  to  my  own 
room,  and  so  to  bed  with  an  incredibly  light  heart. 
I  had  still  enough  of  the  honest  man  in  me  to  wel- 
come the  postponement  of  our  actual  felonies,  to 
dread  their  performance,  to  deplore  their  neces- 
sity: which  is  merely  another  way  of  stating  the 
too  patent  fact  that  I  was  an  incomparably  weaker 
man  than  Raffles,  while  every  whit  as  wicked.     I 

86 


Gentlemen  and  Players 

had,  however,  one  rather  strong  point.  I  pos- 
sessed the  gift  of  dismissing  unpleasant  considera- 
tions, not  Intimately  connected  with  the  passing 
moment,  entirely  from  my  mind.  Through  the 
exercise  of  this  faculty  I  had  lately  been  living  my 
frivolous  life  In  town  with  as  much  Ignoble  enjoy- 
ment as  I  had  derived  from  It  the  year  before; 
and  similarly,  here  at  Milchester,  in  the  long- 
dreaded  cricket-week,  I  had  after  all  a  quite  ex- 
cellent time. 

It  Is  true  that  there  were  other  factors  in  this 
pleasing  disappointment.  In  the  first  place,  mira- 
bile  dictu,  there  were  one  or  two  even  greater  duf- 
fers than  I  on  the  Abbey  cricket-field.  Indeed, 
quite  early  in  the  week,  when  it  was  of  most  value 
to  me,  I  gained  considerable  kudos  for  a  lucky 
catch ;  a  ball,  of  which  I  had  merely  heard  the  hum, 
stuck  fast  In  my  hand,  which  Lord  Amersteth  him- 
self grasped  In  public  congratulation.  This  happy 
accident  was  not  to  be  undone  even  by  me,  and,  as 
nothing  succeeds  like  success,  and  the  constant  en- 
couragement of  the  one  great  cricketer  on  the  field 
was  In  itself  an  Immense  stimulus,  I  actually  made 
a  run  or  two  In  my  very  next  Innings.  Miss  Mel- 
huish  said  pretty  things  to  me  that  night  at  the 
great  ball  In  honor  of  Viscount  Crowley's  ma- 
jority; she  also  told  me  that  was  the  night  on  which 

87 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

the  robbers  would  assuredly  make  their  raid,  and 
was  full  of  arch  tremors  when  we  sat  out  in  the 
garden,  though  the  entire  premises  were  illumi- 
nated all  night  long.  Meanwhile  the  quiet  Scotch- 
man took  countless  photographs  by  day,  which  he 
developed  by  night  in  a  dark  room  admirably  situ- 
ated in  the  servants'  part  of  the  house;  and  it  is 
my  firm  belief  that  only  two  of  his  fellow-guests 
knew  Mr.  Clephane  of  Dundee  for  Inspector  Mac- 
kenzie of  Scotland  Yard. 

The  week  was  to  end  with  a  trumpery  match 
on  the  Saturday,  which  two  or  three  of  us  in- 
tended abandoning  early  in  order  to  return  to  town 
that  night.  The  match,  however,  was  never 
played.  In  the  small  hours  of  the  Saturday 
morning  a  tragedy  took  place  at  Milchester 
Abbey. 

Let  me  tell  of  the  thing  as  I  saw  and  heard  it. 
My  room  opened  upon  the  central  gallery,  and 
was  not  even  on  the  same  floor  as  that  on  which 
Raffles — and  I  think  all  the  other  men — were  quar- 
tered. I  had  been  put,  in  fact,  into  the  dressing- 
room  of  one  of  the  grand  suites,  and  my  too  near 
neighbors  were  old  Lady  Melrose  and  my  host 
and  hostess.  Now,  by  the  Friday  evening  the 
actual  festivities  were  at  an  end,  and,  for  the  first 
time  that  week,  I  must  have  been  sound  asleep 

88 


Gentlemen  and  Players 

since  midnight,  when  all  at  once  I  found  myself 
sitting  up  breathless.  A  heavy  thud  had  come 
against  my  door,  and  now  I  heard  hard  breathing 
and  the  dull  stamp  of  muffled  feet. 

"I've  got  ye,"  muttered  a  voice.  "It's  no  use 
struggling." 

It  was  the  Scotch  detective,  and  a  new  fear 
turned  me  cold.  There  was  no  reply,  but  the  hard 
breathing  grew  harder  still,  and  the  muffled  feet 
beat  the  floor  to  a  quicker  measure.  In  sudden 
panic  I  sprang  out  of  bed  and  flung  open  my  door. 
A  light  burnt  low  on  the  landing,  and  by  it  I  could 
see  Mackenzie  swaying  and  staggering  in  a  silent 
tussle  with  some  powerful  adversary. 

"Hold  this  man!"  he  cried,  as  I  appeared. 
"Hold  the  rascal!" 

But  I  stood  like  a  fool  until  the  pair  of  them 
backed  into  me,  when,  with  a  deep  breath  I  flung 
myself  on  the  fellow,  w^hose  face  I  had  seen  at  last. 
He  was  one  of  the  footmen  who  waited  at  table; 
and  no  sooner  had  I  pinned  him  than  the  detective 
loosed  his  hold. 

"Hang  on  to  him,"  he  cried.  "There's  more 
of  'em  below." 

And  he  went  leaping  down  the  stairs,  as  other 
doors  opened  and  Lord  Amersteth  and  his  son  ap- 
peared simultaneously  in  their  pyjamas.     At  that 

89 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

my  man  ceased  struggling;  but  I  was  still  holding 
him  when  Crctvley  turned  up  the  gas. 

"What  the  devil's  all  this?"  asked  Lord  Amer- 
steth,  blinking.    "Who  was  that  ran  downstairs?" 

"Mac — Clephane!"  said  I  hastily. 

"Aha !"  said  he,  turning  to  the  footman.  "So 
you're  the  scoundrel,  are  you?  Well  done!  Well 
done!    Where  was  he  caught?" 

I  had  no  idea. 

"Here's  Lady  Melrose's  door  open,"  said 
Crowley.     "Lady  Melrose  !     Lady  Melrose  !" 

"You  forget  she's  deaf,"  said  Lord  Amersteth. 
"Ah  !  that'll  be  her  maid." 

An  inner  door  had  opened;  next  instant  there 
was  a  little  shriek,  and  a  white  figure  gesticulated 
on  the  threshold. 

"Ou  done  est  I'ecrin  de  Madame  la  Marquise? 
La  fenetre  est  ouverte.    II  a  disparu !" 

"Window  open  and  jewel-case  gone,  by  Jove!" 
exclaimed  Lord  Amersteth.  "Mais  comment  est 
Madame  la  Marquise?     Estelle  bien?" 

"Oui,  milor.     Elle  dort." 

"Sleeps  through  it  all,"  said  my  lord.  "She's 
the  only  one,  then!" 

"What  made  Mackenzie — Clephane — bolt?" 
young  Crowley  asked  me. 

"Said  there  were  more  of  them  below." 
90 


Gentlemen  and  Players 

"Why  the  devil  couldn't  you  tell  us  so  before?'' 
he  cried,  and  went  leaping  downstairs  in  his  turn. 

He  was  followed  by  nearly  all  the  cricketers, 
who  now  burst  upon  the  scene  in  a  body,  only  to 
desert  it  for  the  chase.  Raffles  was  one  of  them, 
and  I  would  gladly  have  been  another,  had  not  the 
footman  chosen  this  moment  to  hurl  me  from  him, 
and  to  make  a  dash  in  the  direction  from  which 
they  had  come.  Lord  Amersteth  had  him  in  an 
instant;  but  the  fellow  fought  desperately,  and  it 
took  the  two  of  us  to  drag  him  downstairs,  amid  a 
terrified  chorus  from  half-open  doors.  Eventually 
we  handed  him  over  to  two  other  footmen  who 
appeared  with  their  nightshirts  tucked  into  their 
trousers,  and  my  host  was  good  enough  to  compli- 
ment me  as  he  led  the  way  outside. 

"I  thought  I  heard  a  shot,"  he  added.  "Didn't 
you?" 

"I  thought  I  heard  three." 

And  out  we  dashed  into  the  darkness. 

I  remember  how  the  gravel  pricked  my  feet, 
how  the  wet  grass  numbed  them  as  we  made  for 
the  sound  of  voices  on  an  outlying  lawn.  So  dark 
was  the  night  that  we  were  in  the  cricketers'  midst 
before  we  saw  the  shimmer  of  their  pyjamas;  and 
then  Lord  Amersteth  almost  trod  on  Mackenzie 
as  he  lay  prostrate  in  the  dew. 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

"Who's  this?"  he  cried.  "What  on  earth's 
happened?" 

"It's  Clephane,"  said  a  man  who  knelt  over 
him.     "He's  got  a  bullet  In  him  somewhere." 

"Is  he  alive?" 

"Barely." 

"Good  God!    Where's  Crowley?" 

"Here  I  am,"  called  a  breathless  voice.  "It's 
no  good,  you  fellows.  There's  nothing  to  show 
which  way  they've  gone.  Here's  Raffles;  he's 
chucked  It,  too,"    And  they  ran  up  panting. 

"Well,  we've  got  one  of  them,  at  all  events," 
muttered  Lord  Amersteth.  "The  next  thing  Is  to 
get  this  poor  fellow  Indoors.  Take  his  shoulders, 
somebody.  Now  his  middle.  Join  hands  under 
him.  All  together,  now;  that's  the  way.  Poor 
fellow !  Poor  fellow  !  His  name  Isn't  Clephane 
at  all.  He's  a  Scotland  Yard  detective,  down  here 
for  these  very  villains !" 

Raffles  was  the  first  to  express  surprise;  but  he 
had  also  been  the  first  to  raise  the  wounded  man. 
Nor  had  any  of  them  a  stronger  or  more  tender 
hand  In  the  slow  procession  to  the  house.  In  a 
little  we  had  the  senseless  man  stretched  on 
a  sofa  in  the  library.  And  there,  with  Ice  on  his 
wound  and  brandy  in  his  throat,  his  eyes  opened 
and  his  lips  moved. 

92 


Gentlemen  and  Players 

Lord  Amersteth  bent  down  to  catch  the  words. 

"Yes,  yes,"  said  he;  "we've  got  one  of  them  safe 
and  sound.  The  brute  you  collared  upstairs." 
Lord  Amersteth  bent  lower.  "By  Jove !  Lowered 
the  jewel-case  out  of  the  window,  did  he?  And 
they've  got  clean  away  with  it!  Well,  well!  I 
only  hope  we'll  be  able  to  pull  this  good  fellow 
through.     He's  off  again." 

An  hour  passed:  the  sun  was  rising. 

It  found  a  dozen  young  fellows  on  the  settees 
in  the  billiard-room,  drinking  whiskey  and  soda- 
water  in  their  overcoats  and  pyjamas,  and  still 
talking  excitedly  in  one  breath.  A  time-table  was 
being  passed  from  hand  to  hand:  the  doctor  was 
still  in  the  library.  At  last  the  door  opened,  and 
Lord  Amersteth  put  in  his  head. 

"It  isn't  hopeless,"  said  he,  "but  it's  bad  enough. 
There'll  be  no  cricket  to-day." 

Another  hour,  and  most  of  us  were  on  our  way 
to  catch  the  early  train;  between  us  we  filled  a  com- 
partment almost  to  suffocation.  And  still  we 
talked  all  together  of  the  night's  event;  and  still  I 
was  a  little  hero  in  my  way,  for  having  kept  my 
hold  of  the  one  ruffian  who  had  been  taken;  and 
my  gratification  was  subtle  and  intense.  Raffles 
watched  me  under  lowered  lids.  Not  a  word  had 
we  had  together;  not  a  word  did  we  have  until  we 

93 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

had  left  the  others  at  Paddington,  and  were  skim- 
ming through  the  streets  in  a  hansom  with  noise- 
less tires  and  a  tinkling  bell. 

"Well,  Bunny,"  said  Raffles,  "so  the  professors 
have  it,  eh  ?" 

"Yes,"  said  I.    "And  I'm  jolly  glad !" 

"That  poor  Mackenzie  has  a  ball  in  his  chest?" 

"That  you  and  I  have  been  on  the  decent  side 
for  once." 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"You're  hopeless,  Bunny,  quite  hopeless!  I 
take  It  you  wouldn't  have  refused  your  share  if 
the  boodle  had  fallen  to  us?  Yet  you  positively 
enjoy  coming  off  second  best — for  the  second  time 
running!  I  confess,  however,  that  the  professors' 
methods  were  full  of  interest  to  me.  I,  for  one, 
have  probably  gained  as  much  in  experience  as  I 
have  lost  in  other  things.  That  lowering  the  jewel- 
case  out  of  the  window  was  a  very  simple  and  effec- 
tive expedient;  two  of  them  had  been  waiting  be- 
low for  it  for  hours." 

"How  do  you  know?"  I  asked. 

"I  saw  them  from  my  own  window,  which  was 
just  above  the  dear  old  lady's.  I  was  fretting  for 
that  necklace  in  particular,  when  I  went  up  to  turn 
in  for  our  last  night — and  I  happened  to  look  out 
of  my  window.     In  point  of  fact,  I  wanted  to  see 

94 


I  saw  them  from  my  own  window. 


Gentlemen  and  Players 

whether  the  one  below  was  open,  and  whether  there 
was  the  slightest  chance  of  working  the  oracle 
with  my  sheet  for  a  rope.  Of  course  I  took  the 
precaution  of  turning  my  light  oJ(f  first,  and  It  was 
a  lucky  thing  I  did.  I  saw  the  pros,  right  down 
below,  and  they  never  saw  me.  I  saw  a  little  tiny 
luminous  disk  just  for  an  Instant,  and  then  again 
for  an  instant  a  few  minutes  later.  Of  course  I 
knew  what  it  was,  for  I  have  my  own  watch-dial 
daubed  with  luminous  paint;  It  makes  a  lantern  of 
sorts  when  you  can  get  no  better.  But  these  fel- 
lows were  not  using  theirs  as  a  lantern.  They 
were  under  the  old  lady's  window.  They  were 
watching  the  time.  The  whole  thing  was  arranged 
with  their  accomplice  inside.  Set  a  thief  to  catch 
a  thief :  in  a  minute  I  had  guessed  what  the  whole 
thing  proved  to  be." 

"And  you  did  nothing!"  I  exclaimed. 

"On  the  contrary,  I  went  downstairs  and  stralgh^ 
Into  Lady  Melrose's  room " 

"You  did?" 

"Without  a  moment's  hesitation.  To  save  her 
jewels.  And  I  was  prepared  to  yell  as  much  into 
her  ear-trumpet  for  all  the  house  to  hear.  But  the 
dear  lady  Is  too  deaf  and  too  fond  of  her  dinner  to 
wake  easily." 

"Well?" 

95 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

"She  didn't  stir." 

"And  yet  you  allowed  the  professors,  as  you  call 
them,  to  take  her  jewels,  case  and  all !" 

"All  but  this,"  said  Raffles,  thrusting  his  fist 
into  my  lap.  "I  would  have  shown  it  you  before, 
but  really,  old  fellow,  your  face  all  day  has  been 
worth  a  fortune  to  the  firm !" 

And  he  opened  his  fist,  to  shut  it  next  Instant  on 
the  bunch  of  diamonds  and  of  sapphires  that  I  had 
last  seen  encircling  the  neck  of  Lady  Melrose. 


96 


A 


Le  Premier  Pas 

THAT  night  he  told  me  the  story  of  his 
earliest  crime.  Not  since  the  fateful  morn- 
ing of  the  Ides  of  March,  when  he  had  just  men- 
tioned it  as  an  unreported  incident  of  a  certain 
cricket  tour,  had  I  succeeded  in  getting  a  word  out 
of  Raffles  on  the  subject.  It  was  not  for  want  of 
trying;  he  would  shake  his  head,  and  watch  his 
cigarette  smoke  thoughtfully;  a  subtle  look  in  his 
eyes,  half  cynical,  half  wistful,  as  though  the 
decent  honest  days  that  were  no  more  had  had 
their  merits  after  all.  Raffles  would  plan  a  fresh 
enormity,  or  glory  in  the  last,  with  the  unmitigated 
enthusiasm  of  the  artist.  •  It  was  impossible  to 
imagine  one  throb  or  twitter  of  compunction  be- 
neath those  frankly  egotistic  and  infectious  trans- 
ports. And  yet  the  ghost  of  a  dead  remorse  seemed 
still  to  visit  him  with  the  memory  of  his  first  felony, 
so  that  I  had  given  the  story  up  long  before  the 
night  of  our  return  from  Milchester.  Cricket, 
however,  was  in  the  air,  and  Raffles's  cricket-bag 
back  where  he  sometimes  kept  it,  in  the  fender, 
with  the  remains  of  an  Orient  label  still  adhering 

97 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

to  the  leather.  My  eyes  had  been  on  this  label  for 
some  time,  and  I  suppose  his  eyes  had  been  on 
mine,  for  all  at  once  he  asked  me  if  I  still  burned 
to  hear  that  yarn. 

"It's  no  use,"  I  replied.  "You  won't  spin  it. 
I  must  imagine  it  for  myself." 

"How  can  you?" 

"Oh,  I  begin  to  know  your  methods." 

"You  take  it  I  went  in  with  my  eyes  open,  as  I 
do  now,  eh?" 

"I  can't  imagine  your  doing  otherwise." 

"My  dear  Bunny,  it  was  the  most  unpremedi- 
tated thing  I  ever  did  in  my  life !" 

His  chair  wheeled  back  into  the  books  as  he 
sprang  up  with  sudden  energy.  There  was  quite 
an  indignant  glitter  in  his  eyes. 

"I  can't  beheve  that,"  said  I  craftily.  "I  can't 
pay  you  such  a  poor  compliment !" 

"Then  you  must  be  a  fool " 

He  broke  off,  stared  hard  at  me,  and  in  a  trice 
stood  smiling  in  his  own  despite. 

"Or  a  better  knave  than  I  thought  you,  Bunny, 
and  by  Jove  it's  the  knave !  Well — I  suppose  I'm 
fairly  drawn;  I  give  you  best,  as  they  say  out  there. 
As  a  matter  of  fact  I've  been  thinking  of  the  thing 
myself;  last  night's  racket  reminds  me  of  it  in  one 
or  two  respects.     I  tell  you  what,  though,  this  is 

98 


Le  Premier  Pas 

an  occasion  in  any  case,  and  I'm  going  to  celebrate 
it  by  breaking  the  one  good  rule  of  my  life.  I'm 
going  to  have  a  second  drink!" 

The  whiskey  tinkled,  the  syphon  fizzed,  the  ice 
plopped  home;  and  seated  there  in  his  pyjamas, 
with  the  inevitable  cigarette.  Raffles  told  me  the 
story  that  I  had  given  up  hoping  to  hear.  The 
windows  were  wide  open;  the  sounds  of  Piccadilly 
floated  in  at  first.  Long  before  he  finished,  the 
last  wheels  had  rattled,  the  last  brawler  was  re- 
moved, we  alone  broke  the  quiet  of  the  summer 
night. 

".  .  .  No,  they  do  you  very  well,  indeed. 
You  pay  for  nothing  but  drinks,  so  to  speak,  but 
I'm  afraid  mine  were  of  a  comprehensive  char- 
acter. I  had  started  in  a  hole,  I  ought  really  to 
have  refused  the  invitation;  then  we  all  went  to  the 
Melbourne  Cup,  and  I  had  the  certain  winner  that 
didn't  win,  and  that's  not  the  only  way  you  can 
play  the  fool  in  Melbourne.  I  wasn't  the  steady 
old  stager  I  am  now.  Bunny;  my  analysis  was  a 
confession  in  Itself.  But  the  others  didn't  know 
how  hard  up  I  was,  and  I  swore  they  shouldn't.  I 
tried  the  Jews,  but  they're  extra  fly  out  there. 
Then  I  thought  of  a  kinsman  of  sorts,  a  second 
cousin  of  my  father's  whom  none  of  us  knew  any- 

99 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

thing  about,  except  that  he  was  supposed  to  be  in 
one  or  other  of  the  Colonies.  If  he  was  a  rich 
man,  well  and  good,  I  would  work  him;  if  not 
there  would  be  no  harm  done.  I  tried  to  get  on 
his  tracks,  and,  as  luck  would  have  it,  I  succeeded 
(or  thought  I  had)  at  the  very  moment  when  I 
happened  to  have  a  few  days  to  myself.  I  was 
cut  over  on  the  hand,  just  before  the  big  Christmas 
match,  and  couldn't  have  bowled  a  ball  if  they 
had  played  me. 

"The  surgeon  who  fixed  me  up  happened  to  ask 
me  if  I  was  any  relation  of  Raffles  of  the  National 
Bank,  and  the  pure  luck  of  it  almost  took  my 
breath  away.  A  relation  who  was  a  high  official 
in  one  of  the  banks,  who  would  finance  me  on  my 
mere  name — could  anything  be  better?  I  made 
up  my  mind  that  this  Raffles  was  the  man  I  wanted, 
and  was  awfully  sold  to  find  next  moment  that  he 
wasn't  a  high  official  at  all.  Nor  had  the  doctor 
so  much  as  met  him,  but  had  merely  read  of  him 
in  connection  with  a  small  sensation  at  the  subur- 
ban branch  which  my  namesake  managed;  an 
armed  robber  had  been  rather  pluckily  beaten  off, 
with  a  bullet  in  him,  by  this  Raffles;  and  the  sort 
of  thing  was  so  common  out  there  that  this  was 
the  first  I  had  heard  of  it!  A  suburban  branch — 
my  financier  had  faded  into  some  excellent  fellow 

100 


Le  Premier  Pas-.  •    liy()ii}l\i 

with  a  billet  to  lose  if  he  called  his  soul  his  own. 
Still  a  manager  was  a  manager,  and  I  said  I  would 
soon  see  whether  this  was  the  relative  I  was  look- 
ing for,  if  he  would  be  good  enough  to  give  me 
the  name  of  that  branch. 

"  'I'll  do  more,'  says  the  doctor.  'I'll  get  you 
the  name  of  the  branch  he's  been  promoted  to,  for 
I  think  I  heard  they'd  moved  him  up  one  already.' 
And  the  next  day  he  brought  me  the  name  of  the 
township  of  Yea,  some  fifty  miles  north  of  Mel- 
bourne; but,  with  the  vagueness  which  charac- 
terized all  his  information,  he  was  unable  to 
say  whether  I  should  find  my  relative  there 
or  not. 

"  'He's  a  single  man,  and  his  intitials  are  W. 
F.,'  said  the  doctor,  who  was  certain  enough  of  the 
immaterial  points.  'He  left  his  old  post  several 
days  ago,  but  it  appears  he's  not  due  at  the  new 
one  till  the  New  Year.  No  doubt  he'll  go  before 
then  to  take  things  over  and  settle  in.  You  might 
find  him  up  there  and  you  might  not.  If  I  were 
you  I  should  write.' 

"  'That'll  lose  two  days,'  said  I,  'and  more  if 
he  isn't  there,'  for  I'd  grown  quite  keen  on  this  up- 
country  manager,  and  I  felt  that  if  I  could  get  at 
him  while  the  holidays  were  still  on,  a  little  con- 
viviality might  help  matters  considerably. 

lOI 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

"  'Then,'  said  the  doctor,  'I  should  get  a  quiet 
horse  and  ride.     You  needn't  use  that  hand.' 

"  'Can't  I  go  by  train?' 

"  'You  can  and  you  can't.    You  would  still  have 
to  ride.     I  suppose  you're  a  horseman?' 
1  es. 

"  'Then  I  should  certainly  ride  all  the  way.  It's 
a  delightful  road,  through  Whittlesea  and  over 
the  Plenty  Ranges.  It'll  give  you  some  idea  of 
the  bush,  Mr.  Raffles,  and  you'll  see  the  sources  of 
the  water  supply  of  this  city,  sir.  You'll  see  where 
every  drop  of  it  comes  from,  the  pure  Yan  Yean! 
I  wish  I  had  time  to  ride  with  you.' 

"  'But  where  can  I  get  a  horse?' 

"The  doctor  thought  a  moment. 

"  'I've  a  mare  of  my  own  that's  as  fat  as  butter 
for  want  of  work,'  said  he.  'It  would  be  a  charity 
to  me  to  sit  on  her  back  for  a  hundred  miles  or  so, 
and  then  I  should  know  you'd  have  no  temptation 
to  use  that  hand.' 

"  'You're  far  too  good!'  I  protested. 

"  'You're  A.  J.  Raffles,'  he  said. 

"And  if  ever  there  was  a  prettier  compliment, 
or  a  finer  instance  of  even  Colonial  hospitality,  I 
can  only  say.  Bunny,  that  I  never  heard  of  either." 

He  sipped  his  whiskey,  threw  away  the  stump  of 
his  cigarette,  and  lit  another  before  continuing. 

1 02 


Le  Premier  Pas 

"Well,  I  managed  to  write  a  line  to  W.  F.  with 
my  own  hand,  which,  as  you  will  gather,  was  not 
very  badly  wounded;  it  was  simply  this  third  finger 
that  was  split  and  in  splints;  and  next  morning  the 
doctor  packed  me  off  on  a  bovine  beast  that  would 
have  done  for  an  ambulance.  Half  the  team,  came 
up  to  see  me  start;  the  rest  were  rather  sick  with 
me  for  not  stopping  to  see  the  match  out,  as  if  I 
could  help  them  to  win  by  watching  them.  They 
little  knew  the  game  I'd  got  on  myself,  but  still 
less  did  I  know  the  game  I  was  going  to  play. 

"It  was  an  interesting  ride  enough,  especially 
after  passing  the  place  called  Whittlesea,  a  real 
wild  township  on  the  lower  slope  of  the  ranges, 
where  I  recollect  having  a  deadly  meal  of  hot  mut- 
ton and  tea,  with  the  thermometer  at  three  figures 
In  the  shade.  The  first  thirty  miles  or  so  was  a 
good  metal  road,  too  good  to  go  half  round  the 
world  to  ride  on,  but  after  Whittlesea  it  was  a  mere 
track  over  the  ranges,  a  track  I  often  couldn't  see 
and  left  entirely  to  the  mare.  Now  it  dipped  into 
a  gully  and  ran  through  a  creek,  and  all  the  time 
the  local  color  was  inches  thick;  gum-trees  galore 
and  parrots  all  colors  of  the  rainbow.  In  one 
place  a  whole  forest  of  gums  had  been  ring-barked, 
and  were  just  as  though  they  had  been  painted 
white,  without  a  leaf  or  a  living  thing  for  miles. 

103 


The 'Amateur  Cracksman 

And  the  first  living  thing  I  did  meet  was  the  ^ort 
to  give  you  the  creeps ;  it  was  a  riderless  horse  com- 
ing full  tilt  through  the  bush,  with  the  saddle 
twisted  round  and  the  stirrup-irons  ringing.  With- 
out thinking,  I  had  a  shot  at  heading  him  with  the 
doctor's  mare,  and  blocked  him  just  enough  to 
allow  a  man  who  came  galloping  after  to  do  the 
rest. 

"  'Thank  ye,  mister,'  growled  the  man,  a  huge 
chap  in  a  red  checked  shirt,  with  a  beard  like  W. 
G.  Grace,  but  the  very  devil  of  an  expression. 

"  'Been  an  accident?'  said  I,  reining  up. 

"  'Yes,'  said  he,  scowling  as  though  he  defied 
me  to  ask  any  more. 

"  'And  a  nasty  one,'  I  said,  'if  that's  blood  on  the 
saddle!' 

"Well,  Bunny,  I  may  be  a  blackguard  myself, 
but  I  don't  think  I  ever  looked  at  a  fellow  as  that 
chap  looked  at  me.  But  I  stared  him  out,  and 
forced  him  to  admit  that  it  was  blood  on  the  twisted 
saddle,  and  after  that  he  became  quite  tame.  He 
told  me  exactly  what  had  happened.  A  mate  of 
his  had  been  dragged  under  a  branch,  and  had  his 
nose  smashed,  but  that  was  all;  had  sat  tight  after 
it  till  he  dropped  from  loss  of  blood;  another  mate 
was  with  him  back  in  the  bush. 

"As  I've  said  already.  Bunny,  I  wasn't  the  old 
104 


J 


Le  Premier  Pas 

stager  that  I  am  now — in  any  respect — and  we 
parted  good  enough  friends.  He  asked  me  which 
way  I  was  going,  and,  when  I  told  him,  he  said  I 
should  save  seven  miles,  and  get  a  good  hour  earlier 
to  Yea,  by  striking  off  the  track  and  making  for  a 
peak  that  we  could  see  through  the  trees,  and  fol- 
lowing a  creek  that  I  should  see  from  the  peak. 
Don't  smile.  Bunny !  I  began  by  saying  I  was  a 
child  in  those  days.  Of  course,  the  short  cut  was 
the  long  way  round ;  and  it  was  nearly  dark  when 
that  unlucky  mare  and  I  saw  the  single  street  of 
Yea. 

"I  was  looking  for  the  bank  when  a  fellow  in  a 
white  suit  ran  doAvn  from  the  veranda. 

'"Mr.  Raffles?'  said  he. 

"  'Mr.  Raffles,'  said  I,  laughing  as  I  shook  his 
hand. 

"  'You're  late.' 

"  'I  was  misdirected.' 

"  'That  ail?  I'm  relieved,'  he  said.  'Do  you 
know  what  they  are  saying?  There  are  some 
brand-new  bushrangers  on  the  road  between  Whit- 
tlesea  and  this — a  second  Kelly  gang  1  They'd 
have  caught  a  Tartar  in  you,  eh?' 

"  'They  would  in  you,'  I  retorted,  and  my  tu 
qiioque  shut  him  up  and  seemed  to  puzzle  him. 
Yet   there   was   much   more   sense   in   it   than   in 

105 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

his    compliment    to    me,    which    was    absolutely 
pointless. 

"  'I'm  afraid  you'll  find  things  pretty  rough,' 
he  resumed,  when  he  had  unstrapped  my  valise, 
and  handed  my  reins  to  his  man.  'It's  lucky  you're 
a  bachelor  like  myself.' 

"I  could  not  quite  see  the  point  of  this  remark 
either,  since,  had  I  been  married,  I  should  hardly 
have  sprung  my  wife  upon  him  in  this  free-and-easy 
fashion.  I  muttered  the  conventional  sort  of  thing, 
and  then  he  said  I  should  find  it  all  right  when  I 
settled,  as  though  I  had  come  to  graze  upon  him 
for  weeks!  'Well,'  thought  I,  'these  Colonials 
do  take  the  cake  for  hospitality !'  And,  still  mar- 
velling, I  let  him  lead  me  into  the  private  part  of 
the  bank. 

"  'Dinner  will  be  ready  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour,' 
said  he  as  we  entered.  'I  thought  you  might  like  a 
tub  first,  and  you'll  find  all  ready  in  the  room  at  the 
end  of  the  passage.  Sing  out  if  there's  anything  you 
want.  Your  luggage  hasn't  turned  up  yet,  by  the 
way,  but  here's  a  letter  that  came  this  morning.' 

'"Not  for  me?' 

"  'Yes;  didn't  you  expect  one?' 
•  "  *I  certainly  did  not!' 

"  'Well,  here  it  is.' 

"And,  as  he  lit  me  to  my  room,  I  read  my  own 
io6 


Le  Premier  Pas 

superscription  of  the  previous  day — to  W.  F. 
Raffles ! 

"Bunny,  you've  had  your  wind  bagged  at  footer, 
I  daresay;  you  know  what  that's  hke?  All  I  can 
say  is  that  my  moral  wind  was  bagged  by  that  letter 
as  I  hope,  old  chap,  I  have  never  yet  bagged  yours. 
I  couldn't  speak.  I  could  only  stand  with  my  own 
letter  in  my  hands  until  he  had  the  good  taste  to 
leave  me  by  myself. 

"W.  F.  Raffles!  We  had  mistaken  each  other 
for  W.  F.  Raffles — for  the  new  manager  who  had 
not  yet  arrived !  Small  wonder  we  had  conversed 
at  cross-purposes;  the  only  wonder  was  that  we 
had  not  discovered  our  mutual  mistake.  How  the 
other  man  would  have  laughed!  But  I — I  could 
not  laugh.  By  Jove,  no,  it  was  no  laughing  matter 
for  me !  I  saw  the  whole  thing  in  a  flash,  without 
a  tremor,  but  with  the  direst  depression  from  my 
own  single  point  of  view.  Call  it  callous  if  yor 
like,  Bunny,  but  remember  that  I  was  in  much  the 
same  hole  as  you've  since  been  in  yourself,  and  that 
I  had  counted  on  this  W.  F.  Raffles  even  as  you 
counted  on  A.  J.  I  thought  of  the  man  with  the 
W.  G.  beard — the  riderless  horse  and  the  bloody 
saddle — the  deliberate  misdirection  that  had  put 
me  off  the  track  and  out  of  the  way — and  now  the 
missing  manager  and  the  report  of  bushrangers  at 

107 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

this  end.  But  I  simply  don't  pretend  to  have  felt 
any  personal  pity  for  a  man  whom  I  had  never 
seen;  that  kind  of  pity's  usually  cant;  and  besides, 
all  mine  was  needed  for  myself. 

"I  was  in  as  big  a  hole  as  ever.  What  the  devil 
was  I  to  do?  I  doubt  if  I  have  sufficiently  im- 
pressed upon  you  the  absolute  necessity  of  my  re- 
turning to  Melbourne  in  funds.  As  a  matter  of 
fact  it  was  less  the  necessity  than  my  own  determi- 
nation which  I  can  truthfully  ascribe  as  absolute. 

"Money  I  would  have — but  how — but  how? 
Would  this  stranger  be  open  to  persuasion — if  I 
told  him  the  truth?  No;  that  would  set  us  all 
scouring  the  country  for  the  rest  of  the  night.  Why 
should  I  tell  him?  Suppose  I  left  him  to  find  out 
his  mistake  .  .  .  would  anything  be  gained? 
Bunny,  I  give  you  my  word  that  I  went  in  to  dinner 
without  a  definite  intention  in  my  head,  or  one  pre- 
meditated lie  upon  my  lips.  I  might  do  the  decent, 
natural  thing,  and  explain  matters  without  loss  of 
time;  on  the  other  hand,  there  was  no  hurry.  I 
had  not  opened  the  letter,  and  could  always  pre- 
tend I  had  not  noticed  the  initials ;  meanwhile  some- 
thing might  turn  up.  I  could  wait  a  little  and  see. 
Tempted  I  already  was,  but  as  yet  the  temptation 
was  vague,  and  Its  very  vagueness  made  me 
tremble. 

io8 


Le  Premier  Pas 

"'Bad  news,  I'm  afraid?'  said  the  manager, 
when  at  last  I  sat  down  at  his  table. 

"  'A  mere  annoyance,'  I  answered — I  do  assure 
you — on  the  spur  of  the  moment  and  nothing  else. 
But  my  lie  was  told;  my  position  was  taken;  from 
that  moment  onward  there  was  no  retreat.  By 
implication,  without  realizing  what  I  was  doing, 
I  had  already  declared  myself  W.  F.  Raffles. 
Therefore,  W.  F.  Raffles  I  would  be,  in  that  bank, 
for  that  night.  And  the  devil  teach  me  how  to  use 
my  lie ! 

Again  he  raised  his  glass  to  his  lips — I  had  for- 
gotten mine.  His  cigarette-case  caught  the  gas- 
light as  he  handed  it  to  me.  I  shook  my  head 
without  taking  my  eyes  from  his. 

"The  devil  played  up,"  continued  Raffles,  with 
a  laugh.  "Before  I  tasted  my  soup  I  had  decided 
what  to  do.  I  had  determined  to  rob  that  bank 
instead  of  going  to  bed,  and  to  be  back  in  Mel- 
bourne for  breakfast  if  the  doctor's  mare  could 
do  it.  I  would  tell  the  old  fellow  that  I  had  missed 
my  way  and  been  bushed  for  hours,  as  I  easily 
might  have  been,  and  had  never  got  to  Yea  at  all. 
At  Yea,  on  the  other  hand,  the  personation  and 
robbery  would  ever  after  be  attributed  to  a  mem- 
ber of  the  gang  that  had  waylaid  and  murdered  the 
new  manager  with  that  very  object.     You  are  ac- 

109 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

quiring  some  experience  in  such  matters,  Bunny. 
I  ask  you,  was  there  ev^er  a  better  get-out?  Last 
night's  was  something  Hke  it,  only  never  such  a 
certainty.  And  I  saw  it  from  the  beginning — 
saw  to  the  end  before  I  had  finished  my  soup ! 

"To  increase  my  chances,  the  cashier,  who  also 
lived  in  the  bank,  was  away  over  the  holidays,  had 
actually  gone  down  to  Melbourne  to  see  us  play; 
and  the  man  who  had  taken  my  horse  also  waited 
at  table;  for  he  and  his  wife  were  the  only  servants, 
and  they  slept  in  a  separate  building.  You  may 
depend  I  ascertained  this  before  we  had  finished 
dinner.  Indeed  I  was  by  way  of  asking  too  many 
questions  (the  most  oblique  and  delicate  was  that 
which  elicited  my  host's  name,  Ewbank),  nor  was 
I  careful  enough  to  conceal  their  drift. 

"  'Do  you  know,'  said  this  fellow  Ewbank,  who 
was  one  of  the  downright  sort,  'if  it  wasn't  you,  I 
should  say  you  were  in  a  funk  of  robbers?  Have 
you  lost  your  nerve?' 

"  'I  hope  not,'  said  I,  turning  jolly  hot,  I  can 
tell  you;  'but — well,  it  is  not  a  pleasant  thing  to 
have  to  put  a  bullet  through  a  fellow !' 

"  'No?'  said  he,  coolly.  'I  should  enjoy 
nothing  better,  myself;  besides,  yours  didn't  go 
through.' 

"  'I  wish  it  had !'  I  was  smart  enough  to  cry. 
no 


Le  Premier  Pas 

"  'Amen!'  said  he. 

"And  I  emptied  my  glass;  actually  I  did  not 
know  whether  my  wounded  bank-robber  was  in 
prison,  dead,  or  at  large ! 

"But,  now  that  I  had  had  more  than  enough  of 
it,  Ewbank  would  come  back  to  the  subject.  Pie 
admitted  that  the  staff  was  small;  but  as  for  him- 
self, he  had  a  loaded  revolver  under  his  pillow  all 
night,  under  the  counter  all  day,  and  he  was  only 
waiting  for  his  chance. 

"  'Under  the  counter  eh?'  I  was  ass  enough  to 
say. 

"'Yes;  so  had  you!' 

"He  was  looking  at  me  in  surprise,  and  some- 
thing told  me  that  to  say  'of  course — I  had  for- 
gotten !'  would  have  been  quite  fatal,  considering 
what  I  was  supposed  to  have  done.  So  I  looked 
down  my  nose  and  shook  my  head. 

"  'But  the  papers  said  you  had!'  he  cried. 

"  'Not  under  the  counter,"  said  I. 

"  'But  it's  the  regulation!' 

"For  the  moment,  Bunny,  I  felt  stumped,  though 
I  trust  I  only  looked  more  superior  than  before, 
and  I  think  I  justified  my  look. 

"  'The  regulation !'  I  said  at  length,  in  the  most 
offensive  tone  at  my  command.  'Yes,  the  regula- 
tion would  have  us  all  dead  men !     My  dear  sir, 

III 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

do  you  expect  your  bank  robber  to  let  you  reach  for 
your  gun  in  the  place  where  he  knows  It's  kept?  I 
had  mine  in  my  pocket,  and  I  got  my  chance  by 
retreating  from  the  counter  with  all  visible  re- 
luctance.' 

"Ewbank  stared  at  me  with  open  eyes  and  a 
five-barred  forehead,  then  down  came  his  fist  on  the 
table. 

"  'By  God !  That  was  smart !  Still,'  he  added, 
like  a  man  who  would  not  be  in  the  wrong,  'the 
papers  said  the  other  thing,  3'ou  know!' 

"  'Of  course,'  I  rejoined,  'because  they  said  what 
I  told  them.  You  wouldn't  have  had  me  advertise 
the  fact  that  I  improved  upon  the  bank's  regula- 
tions, would  you  ?' 

"So  that  cloud  rolled  over,  and  by  Jove  it  was 
a  cloud  with  a  golden  lining.  Not  silver — real 
good  Australian  gold !  For  old  Ewbank  hadn't 
quite  appreciated  me  till  then;  he  was  a  hard  nut, 
a  much  older  man  than  myself,  and  I  felt  pretty 
sure  he  thought  me  young  for  the  place,  and  my 
supposed  feat  a  fluke.  But  I  never  saw  a  man 
change  his  mind  more  openly.  He  got  out  his 
best  brandy,  he  made  me  throw  away  the  cigar  I 
was  smoking,  and  opened  a  fresh  box.  He  was  a 
convivial-looking  party,  with  a  red  moustache,  and 
a  very  humorous  face  (not  unlike  Tom  Emmett's) , 

112 


Le  Premier  Pas 

and  from  that  moment  I  laid  myself  out  to  attack 
him  on  his  convivial  flank.  But  he  wasn't  a  Rosen- 
thall,  Bunny;  he  had  a  treble-seamed,  hand-sewn 
head,  and  could  have  drunk  me  under  the  table  ten 
times  over. 

"  'All  right,'  I  thought,  'you  may  go  to  bed 
sober,  but  you'll  sleep  like  a  timber-yard !'  And  I 
threw  half  he  gave  me  through  the  open  window, 
when  he  wasn't  looking. 

"But  he  was  a  good  chap,  Ewbank,  and  don't 
you  imagine  he  was  at  all  intemperate.  Convivial 
I  called  him,  and  I  only  wish  he  had  been  something 
more.  He  did,  however,  become  more  and  more 
genial  as  the  evening  advanced,  and  I  had  not  much 
difficulty  in  getting  him  to  show  me  round  the  bank 
at  what  was  really  an  unearthly  hour  for  such  a 
proceeding.  It  was  when  he  went  to  fetch  the 
revolver  before  turning  in.  I  kept  him  out  of  his 
bed  another  twenty  minutes,  and  I  knew  every  inch 
of  the  business  premises  before  I  shook  hands  with 
Ewbank  in  my  room. 

"You  won't  guess  what  I  did  with  myself  for  the 
next  hour.  I  undressed  and  went  to  bed.  The 
incessant  strain  involved  in  even  the  most  deliber- 
ate impersonation  is  the  most  wearing  thing  I 
know ;  then  how  much  more  so  when  the  imperson- 
ation is  impromptu !     There's  no  getting  your  eye 

113 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

In;  the  next  word  may  bowl  you  out;  it's  batting  In 
a  bad  light  all  through.  I  haven't  told  you  of  half 
the  tight  places  I  was  in  during  a  conversation  that 
ran  into  hours  and  became  dangerously  Intimate 
towards  the  end.  You  can  imagine  them  for  your- 
self, and  then  picture  me  spread  out  on  my  bed, 
getting  my  second  wind  for  the  big  deed  of  the 
night. 

"Once  more  I  was  in  luck,  for  I  had  not  been 
lying  there  long  before  I  heard  my  dear  Ewbank 
snoring  like  a  harmonium,  and  the  music  never 
ceased  for  a  moment;  it  was  as  loud  as  ever  when 
I  crept  out  and  closed  my  door  behind  me,  as  regu- 
lar as  everwhen  I  stopped  to  listen  at  his.  And  I 
have  still  to  hear  the  concert  that  I  shall  enjoy 
much  more.  The  good  fellow  snored  me  out  of 
the  bank,  and  was  still  snoring  when  I  again  stood 
and  listened  under  his  open  window. 

"Why  did  I  leave  the  bank  first?  To  catch  and 
saddle  the  mare  and  tether  her  In  a  clump  of  trees 
close  by:  to  have  the  means  of  escape  nice  and 
handy  before  I  went  to  work.  I  have  often  won- 
dered at  the  Instinctive  wisdom  of  the  precaution; 
unconsciously  I  was  acting  on  what  has  been  one 
of  my  guiding  principles  ever  since.  Pains  and 
patience  were  required:  I  had  to  get  my  saddle 
without  waking  the  man,  and  I  was  not  used  to 

114 


Le  Premier  Pas 

catching  horses  In  a  horse-paddock.  Then  I  dis- 
trusted the  poor  mare,  and  1  went  back  to  the  sta- 
bles for  a  hatful  of  oats,  which  I  left  with  her  in 
the  clump,  hat  and  all.  There  was  a  dog,  too,  to 
reckon  with  (our  very  worst  enemy,  Bunny)  ;  but 
I  had  been  'cute  enough  to  make  immense  friends 
with  him  during  the  evening;  and  he  wagged  his 
tail,  not  only  when  I  came  downstairs,  but  when  I 
reappeared  at  the  back-door. 

"As  the  soi-disant  new  manager,  I  had  been  able, 
in  the  most  ordinary  course,  to  pump  poor  Ewbank 
about  anything  and  everything  connected  with  the 
working  of  the  bank,  especially  in  those  twenty 
last  invaluable  minutes  before  turning  in.  And  I 
had  made  a  very  natural  point  of  asking  him 
where  he  kept,  and  would  recommend  me  to  keep, 
the  keys  at  night.  Of  course  I  thought  he  would 
take  them  with  him  to  his  room;  but  no  such  thing; 
he  had  a  dodge  worth  two  of  that.  What  it  was 
doesn't  much  matter,  but  no  outsider  would  have 
found  those  keys  in  a  month  of  Sundays. 

"I,  of  course,  had  them  in  a  few  seconds,  and  in 
a  few  more  I  was  in  the  strong-room  itself.  I  for- 
got to  say  that  the  moon  had  risen  and  was  letting 
quite  a  lot  of  light  into  the  bank.  I  had,  however, 
brought  a  bit  of  candle  with  mf;  from  my  room; 
and   in  the  strong-room,  which  was  down   some 

115 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

narrow  stairs  behind  the  counter  in  the  banking- 
chamber,  I  had  no  hesitation  in  lighting  it.  There 
was  no  window  down  there,  and,  though  I  could 
no  longer  hear  old  Ewbank  snoring,  I  had  not  the 
slightest  reason  to  anticipate  disturbance  from  that 
quarter.  I  did  think  of  locking  myself  in  while  I 
was  at  work,  but,  thank  goodness,  the  iron  door 
had  no  keyhole  on  the  inside. 

"Well,  there  were  heaps  of  gold  in  the  safe,  but 
I  only  took^what  I  needed  and  could  comfortably 
carry,  not  much  more  than  a  couple  of  hundred 
altogether.  Not  a  note  would  I  touch,  and  my 
native  caution  came  out  also  in  the  way  I  divided 
the  sovereigns  between  all  my  pockets,  and  packed 
them  up  so  that  I  shouldn't  be  like  the  old  woman 
of  Banbury  Cross.  Well,  you  think  me  too  cau- 
tious still,  but  I  was  Insanely  cautious  then.  And 
so  it  was  that,  just  as  I  was  ready  to  go,  whereas 
I  might  have  been  gone  ten  minutes,  there  came  a 
violent  knocking  at  the  outer  door. 

"Bunny,  It  was  the  outer  door  of  the  banking- 
chamber  !  My  candle  must  have  been  seen !  And 
there  I  stood,  with  the  grease  running  hot  over 
my  fingers.  In  that  brick  grave  of  a  strong-room  I 

"There  was  only  one  thing  to  be  done.  I  must 
trust  to  the  sound  sleeping  of  Ewbank  upstairs, 
open  the  door  myself,  knock  the  visitor  down,  or 

ii6 


Le  Premier  Pas 

shoot  him  with  the  revolver  I  had  been  new  chum 
enough  to  buy  before  leaving  Melbourne,  and  make 
a  dash  for  that  clump  of  trees  and  the  doctor's 
mare.  My  mind  was  made  up  in  an  Instant,  and 
I  was  at  the  top  of  the  strong-room  stairs,  the 
knocking  still  continuing,  when  a  second  sound 
drove  me  back.  It  was  the  sound  of  bare  feet 
coming  along  a  corridor. 

"My  narrow  stair  was  stone,  I  tumbled  down 
it  with  httle  noise,  and  had  only  to  push  open  the 
iron  door,  for  I  had  left  the  keys  in  the  safe.  As 
I  did  so  I  heard  a  handle  turn  overhead,  and 
thanked  my  gods  that  I  had  shut  every  single  door 
behind  me.  You  see,  old  chap,  one's  caution 
doesn't  always  let  one  In ! 

"'Who's  that  knocking?'  said  Ewbank  up 
above. 

"I  could  not  make  out  the  answer,  but  It  sounded 
to  me  like  the  Irrelevant  supplication  of  a  spent 
man.  What  I  did  hear,  plainly,  was  the  cocking 
of  the  bank  revolver  before  the  bolts  were  shot 
back.  Then,  a  tottering  step,  a  hard,  short,  shal- 
low breathing,  and  Ewbank's  voice  in  horror— 

"'My  God!  Good  Lord!  What's  happened 
to  you  ?    You're  bleeding  like  a  pig !' 

"  'Not  now,'  came  with  a  grateful  sort  of  sigh. 

"  'But  you  have  been !    What's  done  It?' 
117 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

"  'Bushrangers.' 

"'Down  the  road?' 

"  'This  and  Whittlesea — tied  to  tree — cock 
shots — left  me — bleed  to  death     .     .     .' 

The  weak  voice  failed,  and  the  bare  feet 
bolted.  Now  was  my  time — If  the  poor  devil  had 
fainted.  But  I  could  not  be  sure,  and  there  I 
crouched  down  below  in  the  dark,  at  the  half-shut 
iron  door,  not  less  spellbound  than  imprisoned.  It 
was  just  as  well,  for  Ewbank  wasn't  gone  a  minute. 

"  'Drink  this,'  I  heard  him  say,  and,  when  the 
other  spoke  again,  his  voice  was  stronger. 

"  'Now  I  begin  to  feel  alive     .     .     .' 

"'Don't  talk!' 

"  'It  does  me  good.  You  don't  know  what  it 
was,  all  those  miles  alone,  one  an  hour  at  the  out- 
side! I  never  thought  I  should  come  through. 
You  must  let  me  tell  you — in  case  I  don't!' 

"  'Well,  have  another  sip.' 

" 'Thank  you  .  .  .  I  said  bushrangers;  of 
course,  there  are  no  such  things  nowadays.' 

"  'What  were  they,  then?' 

"  'Bank-thieves;  the  one  that  had  the  pot  shots 
was  the  very  brute  I  drove  out  of  the  bank  at 
Coburg,  with  a  bullet  in  him !'  " 

"I  knew  it!" 

ii8 


Le  Premier  Pas 

"Of  course  you  did,  Bunny;  so  did  I,  down  in 
that  strong-room;  but  old  Ewbank  didn't,  and  I 
thought  he  was  never  going  to  speak  again. 

"  'You're  delirious,'  he  says  at  last.  'Who  in 
blazes  do  you  think  you  are?' 

"  'The  new  manager.' 

"  'The  new  manager's  in  bed  and  asleep 
upstairs.' 

"  'When  did  he  arrive?' 

"  'This  evening.' 

" 'Call  himself  Raffles?' 

"  'Yes.' 

"  'Well,  I'm  damned!'  whispered  the  real  man. 
*I  thought  It  was  just  revenge,  but  now  I  see  what 
it  was.  My  dear  sir,  the  man  upstairs  is  an  im- 
postor— if  he's  upstairs  still !  He  must  be  one  of 
the  gang.  He's  going  to  rob  the  bank — If  he 
hasn't  done  so  already!' 

"  'If  he  hasn't  done  so  already,'  muttered  Ew- 
bank after  him;  'If  he's  upstairs  still!  By  God,  If 
he  is,  I'm  sorry  for  him !' 

"His  tone  was  quiet  enough,  but  about  the  nas- 
tiest I  ever  heard.  I  tell  you.  Bunny,  I  was  glad 
I'd  brought  that  revolver.  It  looked  as  though  It 
must  be  mine  against  his,  muzzle  to  muzzle. 

"  'Better  have  a  look  down  here,  first,'  said  the 
new  manager. 

119 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

"  'While  he  gets  through  his  window?  No,  no, 
he's  not  down  here.' 

"  'It's  easy  to  have  a  look.' 

"Bunny,  if  you  ask  me  what  w^as  the  most  thrill- 
ing moment  of  my  infamous  career,  I  say  it  was 
that  moment.  There  I  stood  at  the  bottom  of 
those  narrow  stone  stairs,  inside  the  strong-room, 
with  the  door  a  good  foot  open,  and  I  didn't  know 
whether  it  would  creak  or  not.  The  light  was 
coming  nearer — and  I  didn't  know!  I  had  to 
chance  it.  And  it  didn't  creak  a  bit;  it  was  far 
too  solid  and  well-hung;  and  I  couldn't  have 
banged  it  if  I  tried,  it  was  too  heavy;  and  it  fitted 
so  close  that  I  felt  and  heard  the  air  squeeze  out 
in  my  face.  Every  shred  of  light  went  out,  except 
the  streak  underneath,  and  it  brightened.  How  I 
blessed  that  door! 

"  'No,  he's  not  down  there*  I  heard,  as  though 
through  cotton-wool ;  then  the  streak  went  out  too, 
and  in  a  few  seconds  I  ventured  to  open  once  more, 
and  was  in  time  to  hear  them  creeping  to  my  room. 

"Well,  now  there  was  not  a  fifth  of  a  second  to 
be  lost;  but  I'm  proud  to  say  I  came  up  those  stairs 
on  my  toes  and  fingers,  and  out  of  that  bank 
(they'd  gone  and  left  the  door  open)  just  as  gin- 
gerly as  though  my  time  had  been  my  own.  I 
didn't  even  forget  to  put  on  the  hat  that  the  doc- 

120 


Le  Premier  Pas 

tor's  mare  was  eating  her  oats  out  of,  as  well  as 
she  could  with  a  bit,  or  It  alone  would  have  landed 
me.  I  didn't  even  gallop  away,  but  just  jogged  off 
quietly  in  the  thick  dust  at  the  side  of  the  road 
(though  I  own  my  heart  was  galloping),  and 
thanked  my  stars  the  bank  was  at  that  end  of  the 
township,  in  which  I  really  hadn't  set  foot.  The 
very  last  thing  I  heard  was  the  two  managers 
raising  Cain  and  the  coachman.  And  now. 
Bunny " 

He  stood  up  and  stretched  himself,  with  a  smile 
that  ended  in  a  yawn.  The  black  windows  had 
faded  through  every  shade  of  indigo;  they  now 
framed  their  opposite  neighbors,  stark  and  livid 
in  the  dawn ;  and  the  gas  seemed  turned  to  nothing 
in  the  globes. 

"But  that's  not  all?"  I  cried. 

"I'm  sorry  to  say  it  is,"  said  Raffles  apologeti- 
cally. "The  thing  should  have  ended  with  an  ex- 
citing chase,  I  know,  but  somehow  it  didn't.  I 
suppose  they  thought  I  had  got  no  end  of  a  start; 
then  they  had  made  up  their  minds  that  I  belonged 
to  the  gang,  which  was  not  so  many  miles  away; 
and  one  of  them  had  got  as  much  as  he  could  carry 
from  that  gang  as  it  was.  But  I  wasn't  to  know 
all  that,  and  I'm  bound  to  say  that  there  was  plenty 
of  excitement  left  for  me.    Lord,  how  I  made  that 

121 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

poor  brute  travel  when  I  got  among  the  trees! 
Though  we  must  have  made  it  over  fifty  miles 
from  Melbourne,  we  had  done  it  at  a  snail's  pace; 
and  those  stolen  oats  had  brisked  the  old  girl  up 
to  such  a  pitch  that  she  fairly  bolted  when  she  felt 
her  nose  turned  south.  By  Jove,  it  was  no  joke, 
in  and  out  among  those  trees,  and  under  branches 
with  your  face  in  the  mane !  I  told  you  about  the 
forest  of  dead  gums?  It  looked  perfectly  ghostly 
in  the  moonlight.  And  I  found  it  as  still  as  I  had 
left  it — so  still  that  I  pulled  up  there,  my  first  halt, 
and  lay  with  my  ear  to  the  ground  for  two  or  three 
minutes.  But  I  heard  nothing — not  a  thing  but 
the  marc's  bellow  and  my  own  heart.  I'm  sorry, 
Bunny;  but  if  ever  you  write  my  memoirs,  you 
won't  have  any  difficulty  in  working  up  that  chase. 
Play  those  dead  gum-trees  for  all  they're  worth, 
and  let  the  bullets  fly  like  hail.  I'll  turn  round  in 
my  saddle  to  see  Ewbank  coming  up  hell-to-leather 
in  his  white  suit,  and  I'll  duly  paint  it  red.  Do  it 
in  the  third  person,  and  they  won't  know  how  it's 
going  to  end." 

"But  I  don't  know  myself,"  I  complained. 
"Did  the  mare  carry  you  all  the  way  back  to 
Melbourne?" 

"Every  rod,  pole  or  perch  !  I  had  her  well  seen 
to  at  our  hotel,  and  returned  her  to  the  doctor  in 

122 


Le  Premier  Pas 

the  evening.  He  was  tremendously  tickled  to  hear 
that  I  had  been  bushed;  next  morning  he  brought 
me  the  paper  to  show  me  what  I  had  escaped  at 
Yea!" 

"Without  suspecting  anything?" 

"Ah  !"  said  Raffles,  as  he  put  out  the  gas;  "that's 
a  point  on  which  I've  never  made  up  my  mind. 
The  mare  and  her  color  was  a  coincidence — luckily 
she  was  only  a  bay — and  I  fancied  the  condition 
of  the  beast  must  have  told  a  tale.  The  doctor's 
manner  was  certainly  different.  I'm  inclined  to 
think  he  suspected  something,  though  not  the  right 
thing.  I  wasn't  expecting  him,  and  I  fear  my 
appearance  may  have  Increased  his  suspicions." 

I  asked  him  why. 

"I  used  to  have  rather  a  heavy  moustache,"  said 
Raffles,   "but  I  lost  It  the  day  after  I  lost  my 


123 


Wilful  Murder 

OF  the  various  robberies  in  which  we  were 
both  concerned,  it  is  but  the  few,  I  find,  that 
will  bear  telling  at  any  length.  Not  that  the  others 
contained  details  which  even  I  V\'Ould  hesitate  to 
recount;  it  is,  rather,  the  very  absence  of  untoward 
incident  which  renders  them  useless  for  my  present 
purpose.  In  point  of  fact  our  plans  were  so  craftily 
laid  (by  Raffles)  that  the  chances  of  a  hitch  were 
invariably  reduced  to  a  minimum  before  we  went 
to  work.  We  might  be  disappointed  in  the  market 
value  of  our  haul;  but  it  was  quite  the  exception  for 
us  to  find  ourselves  confronted  by  unforeseen 
impediments,  or  involved  in  a  really  dramatic 
dilemma.  There  was  a  sameness  even  in  our  spoil; 
for,  of  course,  only  the  most  precious  stones  are 
worth  the  trouble  we  took  and  the  risks  we  ran.  In 
short,  our  most  successful  escapades  would  prove 
the  greatest  weariness  of  all  in  narrative  form;  and 
none  more  so  than  the  dull  affair  of  the  Ardagh 
emeralds,  some  eight  or  nine  weeks  after  the  Mil- 

124 


Wilful  Murder 

Chester  cricket  week.  The  former,  however,  had 
a  sequel  that  I  would  rather  forget  than  all  our 
burglaries  put  together. 

It  was  the  evening  after  our  return  from  Ire- 
land, and  I  was  waiting  at  my  rooms  for  Raffles, 
who  had  gone  off  as  usual  to  dispose  of  the  plun- 
der. Raffles  had  his  own  method  of  conducting 
this  very  vital  branch  of  our  business,  which  I  was 
well  content  to  leave  entirely  in  his  hands.  He 
drove  the  bargains,  I  believe,  in  a  thin  but  subtle 
disguise  of  the  flashy-seedy  order,  and  always  in 
the  Cockney  dialect,  of  which  he  had  made  him- 
self a  master.  Moreover,  he  invariably  employed 
the  same  "fence,"  who  was  ostensibly  a  money- 
lender in  a  small  (but  yet  notorious)  way,  and  in 
reality  a  rascal  as  remarkable  as  Raffles  himself. 
Only  lately  I  also  had  been  to  the  man,  but  in  my 
proper  person.  We  had  needed  capital  for  the 
getting  of  these  very  emeralds,  and  I  had  raised  a 
hundred  pounds,  on  the  terms  you  would  expect, 
from  a  soft-spoken  graybeard  with  an  ingratiating 
smile,  an  incessant  bow,  and  the  shiftiest  old  eyes 
that  ever  flew  from  rim  to  rim  of  a  pair  of  specta- 
cles. So  the  original  sinews  and  the  final  spoils  of 
war  came  in  this  case  from  the  self-same  source — ■ 
a  circumstance  which  appealed  to  us  both. 

But  these  same  final  spoils  I  was  still  to  see,  and 
125 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

I  waited  and  waited  with  an  impatience  that  grew 
upon  me  with  the  growing  dusk.  At  my  open 
window  I  had  played  Sister  Ann  until  the  faces  in 
the  street  below  were  no  longer  distinguishable. 
And  now  I  was  tearing  to  and  fro  in  the  grip  of 
horrible  hypotheses — a  grip  that  tightened  when 
at  last  the  lift-gates  opened  with  a  clatter  outside 
— that  held  me  breathless  until  a  well-known  tattoo 
followed  on  my  door. 

"In  the  dark!"  said  Raffles,  as  I  dragged  him 
in.     "Why,  Bunny,  what's  wrong?" 

"Nothing — now  you've  come,"  said  I,  shut- 
ting the  door  behind  him  in  a  fever  of  relief 
and  anxiety.  "Well?  Well?  What  did  they 
fetch?" 

"Five  hundred." 

"Down?" 

"Got  it  in  my  pocket." 

"Good  man !"  I  cried.  "You  don't  know  what 
a  stew  I've  been  in.  I'll  switch  on  the  light.  I've 
been  thinking  of  you  and  nothing  else  for  the  last 
hour.  I — I  was  ass  enough  to  think  something 
had  gone  wrong!" 

Raffles  was  smiling  when  the  white  light  filled 
the  room,  but  for  the  moment  I  did  not  perceive 
the  peculiarity  of  his  smile.  I  was  fatuously  full 
of  my  own  late  tremors  and  present  relief;  and  my 

126 


Wilful  Murder 

first  idiotic  act  was  to  spill  some  whiskey  and  squirt 
the  soda-water  all  over  in  my  anxiety  to  do  instant 
justice  to  the  occasion. 

"So  you  thought  something  had  happened?" 
said  Raffles,  leaning  back  in  my  chair  as  he  lit  a 
cigarette,  and  looking  much  amused.  "What 
would  you  say  if  something  had?  Sit  tight,  my 
dear  chap  !  It  was  nothing  of  the  slightest  conse- 
quence, and  it's  all  over  now.  A  stern  chase  and 
a  long  one.  Bunny,  but  I  think  I'm  well  to  wind- 
ward this  time." 

And  suddenly  I  saw  that  his  collar  was  limp,  his 
hair  matted,  his  boots  thick  with  dust. 

"The  police?"  I  whispered  aghast. 

"Oh,  dear,  no;  only  old  Baird." 

"Baird !  But  wasn't  it  Baird  who  took  the 
emeralds?" 

"It  was." 

"Then  how  came  he  to  chase  you  ?" 

"My  dear  fellow,  I'll  tell  you  if  you  give  me  a 
chance;  it's  really  nothing  to  get  in  the  least  excited 
about.  Old  Baird  has  at  last  spotted  that  I'm  not 
quite  the  common  cracksman  I  would  have  him 
think  me.  So  he's  been  doing  his  best  to  run  me 
to  my  burrow." 

"And  you  call  that  nothing!" 

"It  would  be  something  if  he  had  succeeded; 
127 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

but  he  has  still  to  do  that.  I  admit,  however,  that 
he  made  me  sit  up  for  the  time  being.  It  all  comes 
of  going  on  the  job  so  far  from  home.  There  was 
the  old  brute  with  the  w^hole  thing  in  his  morning 
paper.  He  knew  it  must  have  been  done  by  some 
fellow  who  could  pass  himself  off  for  a  gentleman, 
and  I  saw  his  eyebrows  go  up  the  moment  I  told 
him  I  was  the  man,  with  the  same  old  twang  that 
you  could  cut  with  a  paper-knife.  I  did  my  best  to 
get  out  of  it — swore  I  had  a  pal  who  was  a  real 
swell — but  I  saw  very  plainly  that  I  had  given 
myself  away.  He  gave  up  haggling.  He  paid 
my  price  as  though  he  enjoyed  doing  it.  But  I  felt 
him  following  me  when  I  made  tracks;  though,  of 
course,  I  didn't  turn  round  to  see." 

"Why  not?" 

"My  dear  Bunny,  it's  the  very  worst  thing  you 
can  do.  As  long  as  you  look  unsuspecting  they'll 
keep  their  distance,  and  so  long  as  they  keep  their 
distance  you  stand  a  chance.  Once  show  that  you 
know  you're  being  followed,  and  it's  flight  or  fight 
for  all  you're  worth.  I  never  even  looked  round; 
and  mind  you  never  do  in  the  same  hole.  I  just 
hurried  up  to  Blackfriars  and  booked  for  High 
Street,  Kensington,  at  the  top  of  my  voice;  and  as 
the  train  was  leaving  Sloane  Square  out  I  hopped, 
and  up  all  those  stairs  like  a  lamplighter,  and 

128 


Wilful  Murder 

round  to  the  studio  by  the  back  streets.  Well,  to 
be  on  the  safe  side,  I  lay  low  there  all  the  after- 
noon, hearing  nothing  in  the  least  suspicious,  and 
only  wishing  I  had  a  window  to  look  through  In- 
stead of  that  beastly  skylight.  However,  the  coast 
seemed  clear  enough,  and  thus  far  It  was  my  mere 
Idea  that  he  would  follow  me;  there  was  nothing 
to  show  he  had.  So  at  last  I  marched  out  In  my 
proper  rig — almost  straight  Into  old  Baird's 
arms!" 

"What  on  earth  did  you  do?" 

"Walked  past  him  as  though  I  had  never  set 
eyes  on  him  In  my  life,  and  didn't  then;  took  a 
hansom  In  the  King's  Road,  and  drove  hke  the 
deuce  to  Clapham  Junction ;  rushed  on  to  the  near- 
est platform,  without  a  ticket,  jumped  Into  the  first 
train  I  saw,  got  out  at  Twickenham,  walked  full 
tilt  back  to  Richmond,  took  the  District  to  Charing 
Cross,  and  here  I  am!  Ready  for  a  tub  and  a 
change,  and  the  best  dinner  the  club  can  give  us. 
I  came  to  you  first,  because  I  thought  you  might  be 
getting  anxious.  Come  round  with  me,  and  I  won't 
keep  you  long." 

"You're  certain  you've  given  him  the  slip?"  I 
said,  as  we  put  on  our  hats. 

"Certain  enough;  but  we  can  make  assurance 
doubly  sure,"  said  Raffles,  and  went  to  my  window, 

129 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

where  he  stood  for  a  moment  or  two  looking  down 
into  the  street. 

"All  right?"  I  asked  him. 

"All  right,"  said  he;  and  we  went  downstairs 
forthwith,  and  so  to  the  Albany  arm-in-arm. 

But  we  were  both  rather  silent  on  our  way.  I,  for 
my  part,  was  wondering  what  Raffles  would  do 
about  the  studio  in  Chelsea,  whither,  at  all  events, 
he  had  been  successfully  dogged.  To  me  the  point 
seemed  one  of  immediate  importance,  but  when  I 
mentioned  it  he  said  there  was  time  enough  to 
think  about  that.  His  one  other  remark  was  made 
after  we  had  nodded  (in  Bond  Street)  to  a  young 
blood  of  our  acquaintance  who  happened  to  be 
getting  himself  a  bad  name. 

"Poor  Jack  Rutter!"  said  Raffles,  with  a  sigh. 
"Nothing's  sadder  than  to  see  a  fellow  going  to 
the  bad  like  that.  He's  about  mad  with  drink  and 
debt,  poor  devil !  Did  you  see  his  eye?  Odd  that 
we  should  have  met  him  to-night,  by  the  way;  it's 
old  Baird  who's  said  to  have  skinned  him.  By 
God,  but  I'd  hke  to  skin  old  Baird!" 

And  his  tone  took  a  sudden  low  fury,  made  the 
more  noticeable  by  another  long  silence,  which 
lasted,  indeed,  throughout  an  admirable  dinner  at 
the  club,  and  for  some  time  after  we  had  settled 
down  in  a  quiet  corner  of  the  smoking-room  with 

130 


Wilful  Murder 

our  coffee  and  cigars.  Then  at  last  I  saw  Raffles 
looking  at  me  with  his  lazy  smile,  and  I  knew  that 
the  morose  fit  was  at  an  end. 

"I  daresay  you  wonder  what  I've  been  thinking 
about  all  this  time?"  said  he.  "I've  been  thinking 
what  rot  it  is  to  go  doing  things  by  halves!" 

"Well,"  safd  I,  returning  his  smile,  "that's  not 
a  charge  that  you  can  bring  against  yourself, 
Is  it?" 

"I'm  not  so  sure,"  said  Raffles,  blowing  a  medi- 
tative puff;  "as  a  matter  of  fact,  I  was  thinking 
less  of  myself  than  of  that  poor  devil  of  a  Jack 
Rutter.  There's  a  fellow  who  does  things  by 
halves;  he's  only  half  gone  to  the  bad;  and  look 
at  the  difference  between  him  and  us !  He's  under 
the  thumb  of  a  villainous  money-lender;  we  are 
solvent  citizens.  He's  taken  to  drink;  we're  as 
sober  as  we  are  solvent.  His  pals  are  beginning  to 
cut  him;  our  difficulty  is  to  keep  the  pal  from  the 
door.  Enfjii,  he  begs  or  borrows,  which  is  stealing 
by  halves;  and  we  steal  outright  and  are  done  with 
it.  Obviously  ours  is  the  more  honest  course.  Yet 
I'm  not  sure,  Bunny,  but  we're  doing  the  thing  by 
halves  ourselves!" 

"Why?  What  more  could  we  do?"  I  exclaimed 
in  soft  derision,  looking  round,  however,  to  make 
sure  that  we  were  not  overheard. 

131 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

"What  more,"  said  Raffles.  "Well,  murder— 
for  one  thing." 

"Rot!" 

"A  matter  of  opinion,  my  dear  Bunny;  I  don't 
mean  it  for  rot.  I've  told  you  before  that  the 
biggest  man  alive  is  the  man  who's  committed  a 
murder,  and  not  yet  been  found  out;  at  least  he 
ought  to  be,  but  he  so  very  seldom  has  the  soul  to 
appreciate  himself.  Just  think  of  it!  Think  of 
coming  in  here  and  talking  to  the  men,  very  likely 
about  the  murder  itself;  and  knowing  you've  done 
it;  and  wondering  how  they'd  look  if  they  knew! 
Oh,  it  would  be  great,  simply  great!  But,  besides 
all  that,  when  you  were  caught  there'd  be  a  merci- 
ful and  dramatic  end  of  you.  You'd  fill  the  bill 
for  a  few  weeks,  and  then  snuff  out  with  a  flourish 
of  extra-specials;  you  wouldn't  rust  with  a  vile  re- 
pose for  seven  or  fourteen  years." 

"Good  old  Raffles!"  I  chuckled.  "I  begin  to 
forgive  you  for  being  in  bad  form  at  dinner." 

"But  I  was  never  more  earnest  in  my  life." 

"Goon!" 

"I  mean  it." 

"You  know  very  well  that  you  wouldn't  commit 
a  murder,  whatever  else  you  might  do." 

"I  know  very  well  I'm  going  to  commit  one 
to-night!" 

132 


Wilful  Murder 

He  had  been  leaning  back  In  the  saddle-bag 
chair,  watching  me  with  keen  eyes  sheathed  by 
languid  lids ;  now  he  started  forward,  and  his  eyes 
leapt  to  mine  like  cold  steel  from  the  scabbard. 
They  struck  home  to  my  slow  wits ;  their  meaning 
was  no  longer  in  doubt.  I,  who  knew  the  man, 
read  murder  In  his  clenched  hands,  and  murder  in 
his  locked  lips,  but  a  hundred  murders  In  those 
hard  blue  eyes. 

"Baird?"  I  faltered,  moistening  my  lips  with 
my  tongue. 

"Of  course." 

"But  you  said  It  didn't  matter  about  the  room 
in  Chelsea?" 

"I  told  a  lie." 

"Anyway  you  gave  him  the  slip  after- 
wards!" 

"That  was  another.  I  didn't.  I  thought  I  had 
when  I  came  up  to  you  this  evening;  but  when  I 
looked  out  of  your  window — you  remember?  to 
make  assurance  doubly  sure — there  he  was  on  the 
opposite  pavement  down  below." 

"And  you  never  said  a  word  about  It!" 

"I  wasn't  going  to  spoil  your  dinner.  Bunny, 
and  I  wasn't  going  to  let  you  spoil  mine.  But 
there  he  was  as  large  as  life,  and,  of  course,  he 
followed  us  to  the  Albany.     A  fine  game  for  him 

133 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

to  play,  a  game  after  his  mean  old  heart :  blackmail 
from  me,  bribes  from  the  police,  the  one  bidding 
against  the  other;  but  he  sha'n't  play  it  with  me, 
he  sha'n't  live  to,  and  the  world  will  have  an  extor- 
tioner the  less.  Waiter!  Two  Scotch  whiskeys 
and  sodas.  I'm  off  at  eleven,  Bunny;  it's  the  only 
thing  to  be  done." 

"You  know  where  he  lives,  then?" 

"Yes,  out  Willesden  way,  and  alone;  the  fel- 
low's a  miser  among  other  things.  I  long  ago 
found  out  all  about  him." 

Again  I  looked  round  the  room;  it  was  a  young 
man's  club,  and  young  men  were  laughing,  chat- 
ting, smoking,  drinking,  on  every  hand.  One 
nodded  to  me  through  the  smoke.  Like  a  machine 
I  nodded  to  him,  and  turned  back  to  Raffles  with  a 
groan. 

"Surely  you  will  give  him  a  chance!"  I  urged. 
"The  very  sight  of  your  pistol  should  bring  him  to 
terms." 

"It  wouldn't  make  him  keep  them." 

"But  you  might  try  the  effect?" 

"I  probably  shall.  Here's  a  drink  for  you, 
Bunny.     Wish  me  luck." 

"I'm  coming  too." 

"I  don't  want  you." 

"But  I  must  come!" 

134 


Wilful  Murder 

An  ugly  gleam  shot  from  the  steel  blue  eyes. 

"To  interfere?"  said  Raffles. 

"Not  I." 

"You  give  me  your  word?" 

"I  do." 

"Bunny,  if  you  break  it " 

"You  may  shoot  me,  too!" 

"I  most  certainly  should,"  said  Raffles,  solemnly. 
"So  you  come  at  your  own  peril,  my  dear  man ;  but, 
if  you  are  coming — well,  the  sooner  the  better,  for 
I  must  stop  at  my  rooms  on  the  way." 

Five  minutes  later  I  was  waiting  for  him  at  the 
Piccadilly  entrance  to  the  Albany.  I  had  a  reason 
for  remaining  outside.  It  was  the  feeling — half 
hope,  half  fear — that  Angus  Baird  might  still  be 
on  our  trail — that  some  more  immediate  and  less 
cold-blooded  way  of  dealing  with  him  might  result 
from  a  sudden  encounter  between  the  money-lender 
and  myself.  I  would  not  warn  him  of  his  danger; 
but  I  would  avert  tragedy  at  all  costs.  And  when 
no  such  encounter  had  taken  place,  and  Raffles  and 
I  were  fairly  on  our  way  to  Willesden,  that,  I 
think,  was  still  my  honest  resolve.  I  would  not 
break  my  word  if  I  could  help  it,  but  it  was  a  com- 
fort to  feel  that  I  could  break  it  if  I  liked,  on  an 
understood  penalty.  Alas !  I  fear  my  good  inten- 
tions were  tainted  with  a  devouring  curiosity,  and 

135 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

overlaid  by  the   fascination  which  goes  hand  In 
hand  with  horror. 

I  have  a  poignant  recollection  of  the  hour  it  took 
us  to  reach  the  house.  We  walked  across  St. 
James's  Park  (I  can  see  the  lights  now,  bright  on 
the  bridge  and  blurred  in  the  water),  and  we  had 
some  minutes  to  wait  for  the  last  train  to  Willes- 
den.  It  left  at  1 1 .2 1 ,  I  remember,  and  Raffles  was 
put  out  to  find  It  did  not  go  on  to  Kensal  Rise. 
We  had  to  get  out  at  Willesden  Junction  and  walk 
on  through  the  streets  into  fairly  open  country  that 
happened  to  be  quite  new  to  me.  I  could  never 
find  the  house  again.  I  remember,  however,  that 
we  were  on  a  dark  footpath  between  woods  and 
fields  when  the  clocks  began  striking  twelve. 

"Surely,"  said  I,  "we  shall  find  him  In  bed  and 
asleep  ?" 

"I  hope  we  do,"  said  Raffles  grimly. 

"Then  you  mean  to  break  In?" 

"What  else  did  you  think?" 

I  had  not  thought  about  It  at  all;  the  ultimate 
crime  had  monopolized  my  mind.  Beside  it  burg- 
lary was  a  bagatelle,  but  one  to  deprecate  none  the 
less.  I  saw  obvious  objections:  the  man  was  an 
fait  with  cracksmen  and  their  ways:  he  would  cer- 
tainly have  firearms,  and  might  be  the  first  to  use 
them. 

136 


Wilful  Murder 

"I  could  wish  nothing  better,"  said  Raffles, 
"Then  it  will  be  man  to  man,  and  devil  take  the 
worst  shot.  You  don't  suppose  I  prefer  foul  play- 
to  fair,  do  you?  But  die  he  must,  by  one  or  the 
other,  or  it's  a  long  stretch  for  you  and  me." 

"Better  that  than  this!" 

"Then  stay  where  you  are,  my  good  fellow.  I 
told  you  I  didn't  want  you;  and  this  is  the  house. 
So  good-night." 

I  could  see  no  house  at  all,  only  the  angle  of  a 
high  wall  rising  solitary  in  the  night,  with  the  star- 
light glittering  on  battlements  of  broken  glass; 
and  in  the  wall  a  tall  green  gate,  bristling  with 
spikes,  and  showing  a  front  for  battering-rams  in 
the  feeble  rays  an  outlying  lamp-post  cast  across 
the  new-made  road.  It  seemed  to  me  a  road  of 
building-sites,  with  but  this  one  house  built,  all  by 
itself,  at  one  end;  but  the  night  was  too  dark  for 
more  than  a  mere  impression. 

Raffles,  however,  had  seen  the  place  by  daylight, 
and  had  come  prepared  for  the  special  obstacles; 
already  he  was  reaching  up  and  putting  champagne 
corks  on  the  spikes,  and  in  another  moment  he  had 
his  folded  covert-coat  across  the  corks.  I  stepped 
back  as  he  raised  himself,  and  saw  a  little  pyramid 
of  slates  snip  the  sky  above  the  gate;  as  he 
squirmed  over  I  ran  forward,  and  had  my  own 

137 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

weight  on  the  spikes  and  corks  and  covert-coat 
when  he  gave  the  latter  a  tug. 

"Coming  after  all?" 

"Rather!" 

"Take  care,  then;  the  place  is  all  bell-wires  and 
springs.  It's  no  soft  thing,  this!  There — stand 
still  while  I  take  off  the  corks." 

The  garden  was  very  small  and  new,  with  a 
grass-plot  still  in  separate  sods,  but  a  quantity  of 
full-grown  laurels  stuck  into  the  raw  clay  beds. 
"Bells  In  themselves,"  as  Raffles  whispered; 
"there's  nothing  else  rustles  so — cunning  old 
beast!"  And  we  gave  them  a  wide  berth  as  we 
crept  across  the  grass. 

"He's  gone  to  bed!" 

"I  don't  think  so,  Bunny.  I  believe  he's  seen 
us." 

"Why?" 

"I  saw  a  light." 

"Where?" 

"Downstairs,  for  an  instant,  when  I " 

His  whisper  died  away;  he  had  seen  the  light 
again;  and  so  had  I. 

It  lay  like  a  golden  rod  under  the  front-door — 
and  vanished.  It  reappeared  like  a  gold  thread 
under  the  lintel — and  vanished  for  good.  We 
heard  the  stairs  creak,  creak,  and  cease,  also  for 

138 


Wilful  Murder 

good.  We  neither  saw  nor  heard  any  more, 
though  we  stood  waiting  on  the  grass  till  our  feet 
were  soaked  with  the  dew. 

"I'm  going  in,"  said  Raffles  at  last.  "I  don't 
believe  he  saw  us  at  all.  I  wish  he  had.  This 
way." 

We  trod  gingerly  on  the  path,  but  the  gravel 
stuck  to  our  wet  soles,  and  grated  horribly  in  a  little 
tiled  veranda  with  a  glass  door  leading  within. 
It  was  through  this  glass  that  Raffles  had  first 
seen  the  light ;  and  he  now  proceeded  to  take  out  a 
pane,  with  the  diamond,  the  pot  of  treacle,  and  the 
sheet  of  brown  paper  which  were  seldom  omitted 
from  his  impedimenta.  Nor  did  he  dispense  with 
my  own  assistance,  though  he  may  have  accepted 
it  as  instinctively  as  it  was  proffered.  In  any  case 
it  was  these  fingers  that  helped  to  spread  the  treacle 
on  the  brown  paper,  and  pressed  the  latter  to  the 
glass  until  the  diamond  had  completed  Its  circuit 
and  the  pane  fell  gently  back  into  our  hands. 

Raffles  now  inserted  his  hand,  turned  the  key 
in  the  lock,  and,  by  making  a  long  arm,  succeeded 
in  drawing  the  bolt  at  the  bottom  of  the  door;  it 
proved  to  be  the  only  one,  and  the  door  opened, 
though  not  very  wide. 

"What's  that?"  said  Raffles,  as  something 
crunched  beneath  his  feet  on  the  very  threshold. 

139 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

"A  pair  of  spectacles,"  I  whispered,  picking 
them  up.  I  was  still  fingering  the  broken  lenses 
and  the  bent  rims  when  Raffles  tripped  and  almost 
fell,  with  a  gasping  cry  that  he  made  no  effort  to 
restrain. 

"Hush,  man,  hush!"  I  entreated  under  my 
breath.    "He'll  hear  you  !" 

For  answer  his  teeth  chattered — even  his — and 
I  heard  him  fumbling  with  his  matches.  "No, 
Bunny;  he  won't  hear  us,"  whispered  Raffles,  pres- 
ently; and  he  rose  from  his  knees  and  lit  a  gas  as 
the  match  burnt  down, 

Angus  Baird  was  lying  on  his  own  floor,  dead, 
with  his  gray  hairs  glued  together  by  his  blood; 
near  him  a  poker  with  the  black  end  glisten- 
ing; in  a  corner  his  desk,  ransacked,  litttered. 
A  clock  ticked  noisily  on  the  chimney-piece;  for 
perhaps  a  hundred  seconds  there  was  no  other 
sound. 

Raffles  stood  very  still,  staring  down  at  the  dead, 
as  a  man  might  stare  into  an  abyss  after  striding 
blindly  to  its  brink.  His  breath  came  audibly 
through  wide  nostrils;  he  made  no  other  sign,  and 
his  lips  seemed  sealed. 

"That  light!"  said  I,  hoarsely;  "the  light  we 
saw  under  the  door!" 

With  a  start  he  turned  to  me. 
140 


^  Wilful  Murder 

"It's  true !  I  had  forgotten  it.  It  was  In  here 
I  saw  it  first!" 

"He  must  be  upstairs  still!" 

"If  he  is  we'll  soon  rout  him  out.  Come 
on!" 

Instead  I  laid  a  hand  upon  his  arm,  imploring 
him  to  reflect — that  his  enemy  was  dead  now — 
that  we  should  certainly  be  involved — that  now  or 
never  was  our  own  time  to  escape.  He  shook  me 
off  in  a  sudden  fury  of  impatience,  a  reckless  con- 
tempt in  his  eyes,  and,  bidding  me  save  my  own 
skin  if  I  liked,  he  once  more  turned  his  back  upon 
me,  and  this  time  left  me  half  resolved  to  take  him 
at  his  word.  Had  he  forgotten  on  what  errand 
he  himself  was  here  ?  Was  he  determined  that  this 
night  should  end  in  black  disaster?  As  I  asked 
myself  these  questions  his  match  flared  in  the  hall; 
in  another  moment  the  stairs  were  creaking  under 
his  feet,  even  as  they  had  creaked  under  those  of 
the  murderer;  and  the  humane  instinct  that  in- 
spired him  in  defiance  of  his  risk  was  borne  in  also 
upon  my  slower  sensibilities.  Could  we  let  the 
murderer  go?  My  answer  was  to  bound  up  the 
creaking  stairs  and  to  overhaul  Rafiles  on  the 
landing. 

But  three  doors  presented  themselves;  the  first 
opened  into  a  bedroom  with  the  bed  turned  down 

141 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

but  undisturbed;  the  second  room  was  empty  in 
every  sense;  the  third  door  was  locked. 

Raffles  Ht  the  landing  gas. 

"He's  in  there,"  said  he,  cocking  his  revolver. 
"Do  you  remember  how  we  used  to  break  into  the 
studies  at  school?    Here  goes!" 

His  flat  foot  crashed  over  the  keyhole,  the  lock 
gave,  the  door  flew  open,  and  in  the  sudden  draught 
the  landing  gas  heeled  over  like  a  cobble  in  a 
squall ;  as  the  flame  righted  itself  I  saw  a  fixed  bath, 
two  bath-towels  knotted  together — an  open  win- 
dow— a  cowering  figure — and  Raffles  struck  aghast 
on  the  threshold. 

"Jack—Rutterf 

The  words  came  thick  and  slow  with  horror, 
and  in  horror  I  heard  myself  repeating  them, 
while  the  cowering  figure  by  the  bathroom  win- 
dow rose  gradually  erect. 

"It's  you !"  he  whispered,  in  amazement  no  less 
than  our  own;  "it's  you  two!  What's  it  mean, 
Raffles?  I  saw  you  get  over  the  gate;  a  bell  rang, 
the  place  is  full  of  them.  Then  you  broke  in. 
What's  it  all  mean  ?" 

"We  may  tell  you  that,  when  you  tell  us  what 
in  God's  name  you've  done,  Rutter  !" 

"Done?  What  hav^e  I  done?"  The  unhappy 
wretch  came  out  into  the  light  with  bloodshot, 

142 


Wilful  Murder 

blinking  eyes,  and  a  bloody  shirt-front.  "You 
know — you've  seen — but  I'll  tell  you  If  you  like. 
I've  killed  a  robber;  that's  all.  I've  killed  a  rob- 
ber, a  usurer,  a  jackal,  a  blackmailer,  the  cleverest 
and  the  cruellest  villain  unhung.  I'm  ready  to 
hang  for  him.    I'd  kill  him  again !" 

And  he  looked  us  fiercely  In  the  face,  a  fine  de- 
fiance In  his  dissipated  eyes;  his  breast  hea\'ing, 
his  jaw  like  a  rock. 

"Shall  I  tell  you  how  It  happened?"  he  went  pas- 
sionately on.  "He's  made  my  life  a  hell  these 
weeks  and  months  past.  You  may  know  that.  A 
perfect  hell!  Well,  to-night  I  met  him  in  Bond 
Street.  Do  you  remember  when  I  met  you  fel- 
lows ?  He  wasn't  twenty  yards  behind  you ;  he  was 
on  your  tracks.  Raffles;  he  saw  me  nod  to  you,  and 
stopped  me  and  asked  me  who  you  were.  He 
seemed  as  keen  as  knives  to  know,  I  couldn't  think 
why,  and  didn't  care  either,  for  I  saw  my  chance. 
I  said  I'd  tell  him  all  about  you  if  he'd  give  me  a 
private  interview.  He  said  he  wouldn't.  I  said 
he  should,  and  held  him  by  the  coat;  by  the  time 
I  let  him  go  ^'^ou  were  out  of  sight,  and  I  waited 
where  I  was  till  he  came  back  in  despair.  I  had 
the  whip-hand  of  him  then.  I  could  dictate  where 
the  interview  should  be,  and  I  made  him  take  me 
home  with  him,  still  swearing  to  tell  him  all  about 

T43 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

you  when  we'd  had  our  talk.  Well,  when  we  got 
here  I  made  him  give  me  something  to  eat,  putting 
him  off  and  off;  and  about  ten  o'clock  I  heard  the 
gate  shut.  I  waited  a  bit,  and  then  asked  him  if  he 
lived  alone. 

"'Not  at  all,'  says  he;  'did  you  not  see  the 
servant?' 

"I  said  I'd  seen  her,  but  I  thought  I'd  heard 
her  go;  if  I  was  mistaken  no  doubt  she  would  come 
when  she  was  called;  and  I  yelled  three  times  at 
the  top  of  my  voice.  Of  course  there  was  no  serv- 
ant to  come.  I  knew  that,  because  I  came  to  see 
him  one  night  last  week,  and  he  interviewed  me 
himself  through  the  gate,  but  wouldn't  open  it. 
Well,  when  I  had  done  yelling,  and  not  a  soul  had 
come  near  us,  he  was  as  white  as  that  ceiling. 
Then  I  told  him  we  could  have  our  chat  at  last; 
and  I  picked  the  poker  out  of  the  fender,  and  told 
him  how  he'd  robbed  me,  but,  by  God,  he  shouldn't 
rob  me  any  more.  I  gave  him  three  minutes  to 
write  and  sign  a  settlement  of  all  his  iniquitous 
claims  against  me,  or  have  his  brains  beaten  out 
over  his  own  carpet.  He  thought  a  minute,  and 
then  went  to  his  desk  for  pen  and  paper.  In  two 
seconds  he  was  round  like  lightning  with  a  re- 
volver, and  I  went  for  him  bald-headed.  He  fired 
two  or  three  times  and  missed;  you  can  find  the 

144 


i 


Wilful  Murder 

holes  if  you  like;  but  I  hit  him  every  time — my 
God !  I  was  like  a  savage  till  the  thing  was  done. 
And  then  I  didn't  care.  I  went  through  his  desk 
looking  for  my  own  bills,  and  was  coming  away 
when  you  turned  up.  I  said  I  didn't  care,  nor  do 
I ;  but  I  was  going  to  give  myself  up  to-night,  and 
shall  still;  so  you  see  I  sha'n't  give  you  fellows 
much  trouble!" 

He  was  done;  and  there  we  stood  on  the  landing 
of  the  lonely  house,  the  low,  thick,  eager  voice 
still  racing  and  ringing  through  our  ears ;  the  dead 
man  below,  and  in  front  of  us  his  impenitent 
slayer.  I  knew  to  whom  the  impenitence  would 
appeal  when  he  had  heard  the  story,  and  I  was 
not  mistaken. 

"That's  all  rot,"  said  Raffles,  speaking  after  a 
pause;  "we  sha'n't  let  you  give  yourself  up." 

"You  sha'n't  stop  me!  What  would  be  the 
good?  The  woman  saw  me;  it  would  only  be  a 
question  of  time;  and  I  can't  face  waiting  to  be 
taken.  Think  of  it:  waiting  for  them  to  touch 
you  on  the  shoulder!  No,  no,  no;  I'll  give  myself 
up  and  get  it  over." 

His  speech  was  changed;  he  faltered,  floundered. 
It  was  as  though  a  clearer  perception  of  his  posi- 
tion had  come  with  the  bare  idea  of  escape  from  It. 

"But  listen  to  me,"  urged  Raffles;  "We're  here 
145 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

at  our  peril  ourselves.  We  broke  in  like  thieves 
to  enforce  redress  for  a  grievance  very  like  your 
own.  But  don't  you  see?  We  took  out  a  pane — 
did  the  thing  like  regular  burglars.  Regular  burg- 
lars will  get  the  credit  of  all  the  rest!" 

"You  mean  that  I  sha'n't  be  suspected?" 

"I  do." 

"But  I  don't  want  to  get  off  scotfree,"  cried 
Rutter  hysterically.  "I've  killed  him.  I  know 
that.  But  It  was  in  self-defence;  it  wasn't  mur- 
der, r  must  own  up  and  take  the  consequences. 
I  shall  go  mad  if  I  don't !" 

His  hands  twitched;  his  lips  quivered;  the  tears 
were  in  his  eyes.  Raffles  took  him  roughly  by  the 
shoulder. 

"Look  here,  you  fool !  If  the  three  of  us  were 
caught  here  now,  do  you  know  what  those  conse- 
quences would  be?  We  should  swing  in  a  row  at 
Newgate  In  six  weeks'  time !  You  talk  as  though 
we  were  sitting  in  a  club;  don't  you  know  It's  one 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  the  lights  on,  and  a 
dead  man  down  below?  For  God's  sake  pull 
yourself  together,  and  do  what  I  tell  you,  or  you're 
a  dead  man  yourself." 

"I  wish  I  was  one!"  Rutter  sobbed.  "I  wish 
I  had  his  revolver  to  blow  my  own  brains  out. 
It's  lying  under  him.    O  my  God,  my  God  I" 

146 


I 


Wilful  Murder 

His  knees  knocked  together:  the  frenzy  of  re- 
action was  at  its  height.  We  had  to  take  him 
downstairs  between  us,  and  so  through  the  front 
door  out  into  the  open  air. 

All  was  still  outside — all  but  the  smothered 
weeping  of  the  unstrung  wretch  upon  our  hands. 
Raffles  returned  for  a  moment  to  the  house;  then 
all  was  dark  as  well.  The  gate  opened  from 
within;  we  closed  it  carefully  behind  us;  and  so 
left  the  starlight  shining  on  broken  glass  and  pol- 
ished spikes,  one  and  all  as  we  had  found  them. 

We  escaped;  no  need  to  dwell  on  our  escape. 
Our  murderer  seemed  set  upon  the  scaffold — 
drunk  with  his  deed,  he  was  more  trouble  than  six 
men  drunk  with  wine.  Again  and  again  we  threat- 
ened to  leave  him  to  his  fate,  to  wash  our  hands 
of  him.  But  incredible  and  unmerited  luck  was 
with  the  three  of  us.  Not  a  soul  did  we  meet  be- 
tween that  and  Willesden;  and  of  those  who  saw 
us  later,  did  one  think  of  the  two  young  men  with 
crooked  white  ties,  supporting  a  third  in  a  seem- 
ingly unmistakable  condition,  when  the  evening 
papers  apprised  the  town  of  a  terrible  tragedy  at 
Kensal  Rise? 

We  walked  to  Maida  Vale,  and  thence  drove 
openly  to  my  rooms.  But  I  alone  went  upstairs; 
the  other  two  proceeded  to  the  Albany,  and  I  saw 

147 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

no  more  of  Raffles  for  forty-eight  hours.  He  was 
not  at  his  rooms  when  I  called  in  the  morning;  he 
had  left  no  word.  When  he  reappeared  the  papers 
were  full  of  the  murder;  and  the  man  who  had 
committed  It  was  on  the  wide  Atlantic,  a  steerage 
passenger  from  Liverpool  to  New  York. 

"There  was  no  arguing  with  him,"  so  Raffles 
told  me;  "either  he  must  make  a  clean  breast  of 
it  or  flee  the  country.  So  I  rigged  him  up  at  the 
studio,  and  we  took  the  first  train  to  Liverpool. 
Nothing  would  induce  him  to  sit  tight  and  enjoy 
the  situation  as  I  should  have  endeavored  to  do 
in  his  place;  and  it's  just  as  well!  I  went  to  his 
diggings  to  destroy  some  papers,  and  what  do  you 
think  I  found.  The  police  in  possession;  there's 
a  warrant  out  against  him  already!  The  idiots 
think  that  window  wasn't  genuine,  and  the  war- 
rant's out.  It  won't  be  my  fault  if  it's  ever 
served !" 

Nor,  after  all  these  years,  can  I  think  it  will  b^ 
mine. 


148 


Nine  Points  of  the  Law 

"\T7ELL,"  said  Raffles,  "what  do  you  make 

W     of  it?" 

I  read  the  advertisement  once  more  before  re- 
plying. It  was  in  the  last  column  of  the  Daily 
Telegraph,  and  it  ran : 

T^WO   THOUSAND  POUNDS    REWARD— The 
above  sum  may  be  earned   by  any  one  qualified  to 
undertake  delicate  mission  and  prepared  to  run  certain 
risk. — Apply  by  telegram,  Security,  London. 

"I  think,"  said  I,  "it's  the  most  extraordinary 
advertisement  that  ever  got  into  print!" 

Raffles  smiled. 

"Not  quite  all  that,  Bunny;  still,  extraordinary 
enough,  I  grant  you." 

"Look  at  the  figure !" 

"It  is  certainly  large." 

"And  the  mission — and  the  risk!" 

"Yes;  the  combination  is  frank,  to  say  the  least 
of  it.  But  the  really  original  point  is  requiring 
applications  by  telegram  to  a  telegraphic  address ! 
There's  something  in  the  fellow  who  thought  of 
that,  and  something  in  his  game;  with  one  word 

149 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

he  chokes  off  the  million  who  answer  an  advertise- 
ment every  day — when  they  can  raise  the  stamp. 
My  answer  cost  me  five  bob;  but  then  I  prepaid 
another." 

"You  don't  mean  to  say  that  you've  applied?" 

"Rather,"  said  Raffles.  "I  want  two  thousand 
pounds  as  much  as  any  man." 

"Put  your  own  name?" 

"Well — no,  Bunny,  I  didn't.  In  point  of  fact 
I  smell  something  interesting  and  illegal,  and  you 
know  what  a  cautious  chap  I  am.  I  signed  myself 
Glasspool,  care  of  Hickey,  38,  Conduit  Street; 
that's  my  tailor,  and  after  sending  the  wire  I  went 
round  and  told  him  what  to  expect.  He  promised 
to  send  the  reply  along  the  moment  It  came.  I 
shouldn't  be  surprised  if  that's  it!" 

And  he  was  gone  before  a  double-knock  on  the 
outer  door  had  done  ringing  through  the  rooms, 
to  return  next  minute  with  an  open  telegram  and 
a  face  full  of  news. 

"What  do  you  think?"  said  he.  "Security's 
that  fellow  Addenbrooke,  the  police-court  lawyer, 
and  he  wants  to  sec  me  instanter!" 

"Do  you  know  him,  then?" 

"Merely  by  repute.  I  only  hope  he  doesn't 
know  me.  He's  the  chap  who  got  six  weeks  for 
sailing  too  close  to  the  wind  In  the  Sutton-Wilmer 

150 


Nine  Points  of  the  Law 

case;  everybody  wondered  why  he  wasn't  struck 
off  the  rolls.  Instead  of  that  he's  got  a  first-rate 
practice  on  the  seamy  side,  and  every  blackguard 
with  half  a  case  takes  It  straight  to  Bennett  Ad- 
denbrooke.  He's  probably  the  one  man  who 
would  have  the  cheek  to  put  In  an  advertisement 
like  that,  and  the  one  man  who  could  do  It  without 
exciting  suspicion.  It's  simply  in  his  line;  but  you 
may  be  sure  there's  something  shady  at  the  bot- 
tom of  it.  The  odd  thing  Is  that  I  have  long  made 
up  my  mind  to  go  to  Addenbrooke  myself  If  acci- 
dents should  happen." 

"And  you're  going  to  him  now?" 

"This  minute,"  said  Raffles,  brushing  his  hat; 
"and  so  are  you." 

"But  I  came  In  to  drag  you  out  to  lunch." 

"You  shall  lunch  with  me  when  we've  seen  this 
fellow.  Come  on.  Bunny,  and  we'll  choose  your 
name  on  the  way.  Mine's  Glasspool,  and  don't 
you  forget  It." 

Mr.  Bennett  Addenbrooke  occupied  substantial 
offices  in  Wellington  Street,  Strand,  and  was  out 
when  we  arrived;  but  he  had  only  just  gone  "over 
the  way  to  the  court" ;  and  five  minutes  sufficed  to 
produce  a  brick,  fresh-colored,  resolute-looking 
man,  with  a  very  confident,  rather  festive  air,  and 
black  eyes  that  opened  wide  at  the  sight  of  Raffles. 

15T 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

"Mr. — Glasspool?"  exclaimed  the  lawyer. 

"My  name,"  said  Raffles,  with  dry  effront- 
ery. 

"Not  up  at  Lord's,  however!"  said  the  other, 
slyly.  "My  dear  sir,  I  have  seen  you  take  far  too 
many  wickets  to  make  any  mistake !" 

For  a  single  moment  Raffles  looked  venomous; 
then  he  shrugged  and  smiled,  and  the  smile  grew 
into  a  little  cynical  chuckle. 

"So  you  have  bowled  me  out  in  my  turn?"  said 
he.  "Well,  I  don't  think  there's  anything  to  ex- 
plain. I  am  harder  up  than  I  wished  to  admit 
under  my  own  name,  that's  all,  and  I  want  that 
thousand  pounds  reward." 

"Two  thousand,"  said  the  solicitor.  "And  the 
man  who  is  not  above  an  alias  happens  to  be  just 
the  sort  of  man  I  want;  so  don't  let  that  worry 
you,  my  dear  sir.  The  matter,  howev^er,  is  of  a 
strictly  private  and  confidential  character."  And 
he  looked  very  hard  at  me. 

"Quite  so,"  said  Raffles.  "But  there  was  some- 
thing about  a  risk?" 

"A  certain  risk  Is  Involved." 

"Then  surely  three  heads  will  be  better  than 
two.  I  said  I  wanted  that  thousand  pounds;  my 
friend  here  wants  the  other.  We  are  both  cursedly 
hard  up,  and  we  go  Into  this  thing  together  or  not 

152 


Nine  Points  of  the  Law 

at  all.  Must  you  have  his  name  too?  I  should 
give  him  my  real  one,  Bunny." 

Mr.  Addenbrooke  raised  his  eyebrows  over  the 
card  I  found  for  him;  then  he  drummed  upon  it 
with  his  finger-nail,  and  his  embarrassment  ex- 
pressed itself  in  a  puzzled  smile. 

"The  fact  is,  I  find  myself  in  a  difficulty,"  he 
confessed  at  last.  "Yours  is  the  first  reply  I  have 
received;  people  who  can  afford  to  send  long  tele- 
grams don't  rush  to  the  advertisements  in  the  Daily 
Telegraph;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  I  was  not  quite 
prepared  to  hear  from  men  like  yourselves.  Can- 
didly, and  on  consideration,  I  am  not  sure  that  you 
are  the  stamp  of  men  for  me — men  who  belong  to 
good  clubs !  I  rather  intended  to  appeal  to  the — 
er — adventurous  classes." 

"We  are  adventurers,"  said  Raffles  gravely. 

"But  you  respect  the  law?" 

The  black  eyes  gleamed  shrewdly. 

"We  are  not  professional  rogues,  if  that's  what 
you  mean,"  said  Raffles,  smiling.  "But  on  our 
beam-ends  we  are;  we  would  do  a  good  deal  for  a 
thousand  pounds  apiece,  eh.  Bunny?" 

"Anything,"  I  murmured. 

The  solicitor  rapped  his  desk. 

"I'll  tell  you  what  I  want  you  to  do.  You  can 
but  refuse.    It's  illegal,  but  it's  illegahty  in  a  good 

153 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

cause;  that's  the  risk,  and  my  client  Is  prepared  to 
pay  for  it.  He  will  pay  for  the  attempt,  in  ca^e 
of  failure;  the  money  is  as  good  as  yours  once  you 
consent  to  run  the  risk.  My  client  is  Sir  Bernard 
Debenham,  of  Broom  Hall,  Esher." 

"I  know  his  son,"  I  remarked. 

Raffles  knew  him  too,  but  said  nothing,  and  his 
eye  drooped  disapproval  in  my  direction.  Bennett 
Addenbrooke  turned  to  me. 

"Then,"  said  he,  "you  have  the  privilege  of 
knowing  one  of  the  most  complete  young  black- 
guards about  town,  and  the  fons  et  origo  of  the 
whole  trouble.  As  you  know  the  son,  you  may 
know  the  father  too,  at  all  events  by  reputation; 
and  in  that  case  I  needn't  tell  you  that  he  Is  a  very 
peculiar  man.  He  lives  alone  in  a  storehouse  of 
treasures  which  no  eyes  but  his  ever  behold.  He 
is  said  to  have  the  finest  collection  of  pictures  in 
the  south  of  England,  though  nobody  ever  sees 
them  to  judge;  pictures,  fiddles  and  furniture  are 
his  hobby,  and  he  is  undoubtedly  very  eccentric. 
Nor  can  one  deny  that  there  has  been  considerable 
eccentricity  in  his  treatment  of  his  son.  For  years 
Sir  Bernard  paid  his  debts,  and  the  other  day, 
without  the  slightest  warning,  not  only  refused  to 
do  so  any  more,  but  absolutely  stopped  the  lad's 
allowance.      Well,    I'll   tell   you   what   has   hap- 

154 


Nine  Points  of  the  Law 

pened;  but  first  of  all  you  must  know,  or  you  may 
remember,  that  I  appeared  for  young  Debenham 
in  a  little  scrape  he  got  into  a  year  or  two  ago.  I 
got  him  off  all  right,  and  Sir  Bernard  paid  me 
handsomely  on  the  nail.  And  no  more  did  I  hear 
or  see  of  either  of  them  until  one  day  last  week." 

The  lawyer  drew  his  chair  nearer  ours,  and  leant 
forward  with  a  hand  on  either  knee. 

"On  Tuesday  of  last  week  I  had  a  telegram 
from  Sir  Bernard;  I  was  to  go  to  him  at  once.  I 
found  him  waiting  for  me  in  the  drive;  without  a 
word  he  led  me  to  the  picture-gallery,  which  was 
locked  and  darkened,  drew  up  a  blind,  and  stood 
simply  pointing  to  an  empty  picture-frame.  It 
was  a  long  time  before  I  could  get  a  word  out  of 
him.  Then  at  last  he  told  me  that  that  frame  had 
contained  one  of  the  rarest  and  most  valuable  pic- 
tures in  England — in  the  world — an  original 
Velasquez.  I  have  checked  this,"  said  the  lawyer, 
"and  it  seems  literally  true;  the  picture  was  a  por- 
trait of  the  Infanta  Maria  Teresa,  said  to  be  one 
of  the  artist's  greatest  works,  second  only  to  an- 
other portrait  of  one  of  the  Popes  in  Rome — so 
they  told  me  at  the  National  Gallery,  where  they 
had  its  history  by  heart.  They  say  there  that  the 
picture  is  practically  priceless.  And  young  Deben- 
ham has  sold  it  for  five  thousand  pounds!" 

155 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

"The  deuce  he  has,"  said  Raffles. 

I  inquired  who  had  bought  it. 

"A  Queensland  legislator  of  the  name  of  Craggs 
— the  Hon.  John  Montagu  Craggs,  M.L.C.,  to 
give  him  his  full  title.  Not  that  we  knew  anything 
about  him  on  Tuesday  last;  we  didn't  even  know 
for  certain  that  young  Debenham  had  stolen  the 
picture.  But  he  had  gone  down  for  money  on  the 
Monday  evening,  had  been  refused,  and  it  was 
plain  enough  that  he  had  helped  himself  in  this 
way;  he  had  threatened  revenge,  and  this  was  it. 
Indeed,  when  I  hunted  him  up  in  town  on  the  Tues- 
day night,  he  confessed  as  much  in  the  most  brazen 
manner  imaginable.  But  he  wouldn't  tell  me  who 
was  the  purchaser,  and  finding  out  took  the  rest 
of  the  week;  but  I  did  find  out,  and  a  nice  time  I've 
had  of  it  ever  since!  Backwards  and  forwards 
between  Esher  and  the  Metropole,  where  the 
Queenslander  is  staying,  sometimes  twice  a  day; 
threats,  offers,  prayers,  entreaties,  not  one  of  them 
a  bit  of  good  !" 

"But,"  said  Raffles,  "surely  it's  a  clear  case? 
The  sale  was  illegal;  you  can  pay  him  back  his 
money  and  force  him  to  give  the  picture  up." 

"Exactly;  but  not  without  an  action  and  a  pub- 
lic scandal,  and  that  my  client  declines  to  face. 
He  would  rather  lose  even  his  picture  than  have 

156 


Nine  Points  of  the  Law 

the  whole  thing  get  Into  the  papers;  he  has  dis- 
owned his  son,  but  he  will  not  disgrace  him;  yet 
his  picture  he  must  have  by  hook  or  crook,  and 
there's  the  rub !  I  am  to  get  it  back  by  fair  means 
or  foul.  He  gives  me  carte  blanche  m  the  matter, 
and,  I  verily  believe,  would  throw  in  a  blank 
check  if  asked.  He  offered  one  to  the  Queens- 
lander,  but  Craggs  simply  tore  it  in  two;  the 
one  old  boy  is  as  much  a  character  as  the 
other,  and  between  the  two  of  them  I'm  at 
my  wits'  end." 

"So  you  put  that  advertisement  in  the  paper?" 
said  Raffles,  in  the  dry  tones  he  had  adopted 
throughout  the  interview. 

"As  a  last  resort.    I  did." 

"And  you  wish  us  to  steal  this  picture?" 

It  was  magnificently  said;  the  lawyer  flushed 
from  his  hair  to  his  collar. 

"I  knew  you  were  not  the  men!"  he  groaned. 
"I  never  thought  of  men  of  your  stamp !  But  it's 
not  steahng,"  he  exclaimed  heatedly;  "it's  recover- 
ing stolen  property.  Besides,  Sir  Bernard  will 
pay  him  his  five  thousand  as  soon  as  he  has  the  pic- 
ture; and,  you'll  see,  old  Craggs  will  be  just  as 
loath  to  let  it  come  out  as  Sir  Bernard  himself. 
No,  no — it's  an  enterprise,  an  adventure,  if  you 
like — but  not  stealing." 

157 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

"You  yourself  mentioned  the  law,"  murmured 
Raffles. 

"And  the  risk,"  I  added. 

"We  pay  for  that,"  he  said  once  more. 

"But  not  enough,"  said  Raffles,  shaking  his 
head.  "My  good  sir,  consider  what  it  means  to 
us.  You  spoke  of  those  clubs;  we  should  not  only 
get  kicked  out  of  them,  but  put  in  prison  like  com- 
mon burglars!  It's  true  we're  hard  up,  but  it 
simply  isn't  worth  it  at  the  price.  Double  your 
stakes,  and  I  for  one  am  your  man." 

Addenbrooke  wavered. 

"Do  you  think  you  could  bring  it  off?" 

"We  could  try." 

"But  you  have  no " 

"Experience?    Well,  hardly!" 

"And  you  would  really  run  the  risk  for  four 
thousand  pounds?" 

Raffles  looked  at  me.     I  nodded. 

"We  would,"  said  he,  "and  blow  the  odds!" 

"It's  more  than  I  can  ask  my  client  to  pay," 
said  Addenbrooke,  growing  firm. 

"Then  it's  more  than  you  can  expect  us  to  risk." 

"You  are  in  earnest?" 

"God  wot!" 

"Say  three  thousand  if  you  succeed!" 

"Four  is  our  figure,  Mr.  Addenbrooke." 
158 


Nine  Points  of  the  Law 

"Then  I  think  it  should  be  nothing  if  you  fail." 

"Doubles  or  quits?"  cried  Raffles.  "Well,  that's 
sporting.     Done!" 

Addenbrooke  opened  his  lips,  half  rose,  then 
sat  back  in  his  chair,  and  looked  long  and  shrewdly 
at  Raffles — never  once  at  me. 

"I  know  your  bowling,"  said  he  reflectively.  "I 
go  up  to  Lord's  whenever  I  want  an  hour's  real 
rest,  and  I've  seen  you  bowl  again  and  again — ^yes, 
and  take  the  best  wickets  in  England  on  a  plumb 
pitch.  I  don't  forget  the  last  Gentleman  and  Play- 
ers; I  was  there.  You're  up  to  every  trick — every 
one  .  .  .  I'm  inclined  to  think  that  if  any- 
body could  bowl  out  this  old  Australian 
Damme,  I  believe  you're  my  very  man !" 

The  bargain  was  clinched  at  the  Cafe  Royal, 
where  Bennett  Addenbrooke  insisted  on  playing 
host  at  an  extravagant  luncheon.  I  remember 
that  he  took  his  whack  of  champagne  with  the 
nervous  freedom  of  a  man  at  high  pressure,  and 
have  no  doubt  I  kept  him  In  countenance  by  an 
equal  indulgence;  but  Raffles,  ever  an  exemplar 
in  such  matters,  was  more  abstemious  even  than 
his  wont,  and  very  poor  company  to  boot.  I  can 
see  him  now,  his  eyes  in  his  plate — thinking — 
thinking.  I  can  see  the  solicitor  glancing  from 
him  to  me  in  an  apprehension  of  which  I  did  my 

159 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

best  to  disabuse  him  by  reassuring  looks.  At  the 
close  Raffles  apologized  for  his  preoccupation, 
called  for  an  A. B.C.  time-table,  and  announced  his 
intention  of  catching  the  3.2  to  Esher. 

"You  must  excuse  me,  Mr.  Addenbrooke,"  said 
he,  "but  I  have  my  own  idea,  and  for  the  moment 
I  should  much  prefer  to  keep  it  to  myself.  It  may 
end  in  fizzle,  so  I  would  rather  not  speak  about  it 
to  either  of  you  just  yet.  But  speak  to  Sir  Ber- 
nard I  must,  so  will  you  write  me  one  line  to  him 
on  your  card?  Of  course.  If  you  wish,  you  must 
come  down  with  me  and  hear  what  I  say;  but  I 
really  don't  see  much  point  In  it." 

And  as  usual  Raffles  had  his  way,  though  Ben- 
nett Addenbrooke  showed  some  temper  when  he 
was  gone,  and  I  myself  shared  his  annoyance  to  no 
small  extent.  I  could  only  tell  him  that  it  was  in 
the  nature  of  Raffles  to  be  self-willed  and  secretive, 
but  that  no  man  of  my  acquaintance  had  half  his 
audacity  and  determination;  that  I  for  my  part 
would  trust  him  through  and  through,  and  let  him 
gang  his  own  gait  every  time.  More  I  dared  not 
say,  even  to  remove  those  chill  misgivings  with 
which  I  knew  that  the  lawyer  went  his  way. 

That  day  I  saw  no  more  of  Raffles,  but  a  tele- 
gram reached  me  when  I  was  dressing  for 
dinner : 

160 


Raffles  announced  his  intention  of  catching  the  3.2  to  Esher. 


Nine  Points  of  the  Law 

"Be  in  your  rooms  to-morrow  from  noon  and  keep  rest 
of  day  clear,  Raffles." 


It  had  been  sent  off  from  Waterloo  at  6.42. 

So  RafHes  was  back  in  town;  at  an  earlier  stage 
of  our  relations  I  should  have  hunted  him  up  then 
and  there,  but  now  I  knew  better.  His  telegram 
meant  that  he  had  no  desire  for  my  society  that 
night  or  the  following  forenoon;  that  when  he 
wanted  me  I  should  see  him  soon  enough. 

And  see  him  I  did,  towards  one  o'clock  next  day. 
I  was  watching  for  him  from  my  window  in  Mount 
Street,  when  he  drove  up  furiously  in  a  hansom, 
and  jumped  out  without  a  word  to  the  man.  I  met 
him  next  minute  at  the  lift  gates,  and  he  fairly 
pushed  me  back  into  my  rooms. 

"Five  minutes,  Bunny!"  he  cried.  "Not  a  mo- 
ment more." 

And  he  tore  off  his  coat  before  flinging  himself 
into  the  nearest  chair. 

"I'm  fairly  on  the  rush,"  he  panted;  "having 
the  very  devil  of  a  time !  Not  a  word  till  I  tell 
you  all  I've  done.  I  settled  my  plan  of  campaign 
yesterday  at  lunch.  The  first  thing  was  to  get  in 
with  this  man  Craggs;  you  can't  break  into  a  place 
like  the  Metropole,  it's  got  to  be  done  from  the 
inside.     Problem  one,  how  to  get  at  the  fellow. 

161 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

Only  one  sort  of  pretext  would  do — it  must  be 
something  to  do  with  this  blessed  picture,  so  that  I 
might  see  where  he'd  got  it  and  all  that.  Well,  I 
couldn't  go  and  ask  to  see  it  out  of  curiosity,  and 
I  couldn't  go  as  a  second  representative  of  the  other 
old  chap,  and  it  was  thinking  how  I  could  go  that 
made  me  such  a  bear  at  lunch.  But  I  saw  my  way 
before  we  got  up.  If  I  could  only  lay  hold  of  a 
copy  of  the  picture  I  might  ask  leave  to  go  and 
compare  it  with  the  original.  So  down  I  went  to 
Esher  to  find  out  if  there  was  a  copy  in  existence, 
and  was  at  Broom  Hall  for  one  hour  and  a  half 
yesterday  afternoon.  There  was  no  copy  there, 
but  they  must  exist,  for  Sir  Bernard  himself 
(there's  'copy'  there!)  has  allowed  a  couple  to  be 
made  since  the  picture  has  been  in  his  possession. 
He  hunted  up  the  painters'  addresses,  and  the  rest 
of  the  evening  I  spent  in  hunting  up  the  painters 
themselves ;  but  their  work  had  been  done  on  com- 
mission; one  copy  had  gone  out  of  the  country, 
and  I'm  still  on  the  track  of  the  other.'' 
"Then  you  haven't  seen  Craggs  yet?" 
"Seen  him  and  made  friends  with  him,  and  if 
possible  he's  the  funnier  old  cuss  of  the  two;  but 
you  should  study  'em  both.  I  took  the  bull  by  the 
horns  this  morning,  went  in  and  lied  like  Ananias, 
and  it  was  just  as  well  I  did — the  old  ruffian  sails 

162 


Nine  Points  of  the  Law 

for  Australia  by  to-morrow's  boat.  I  told  him  a 
man  wanted  to  sell  me  a  copy  of  the  celebrated 
Infanta  Maria  Teresa  of  Velasquez,  that  I'd  been 
down  to  the  supposed  owner  of  the  picture,  only 
to  find  that  he  had  just  sold  it  to  him.  You  should 
have  seen  his  face  when  I  told  him  that!  He 
grinned  all  round  his  wicked  old  head.  'Did  old 
Debenham  admit  the  sale?'  says  he;  and  when  I 
said  he  had  he  chuckled  to  himself  for  about  five 
minutes.  He  was  so  pleased  that  he  did  just  what 
I  hoped  he  would  do ;  he  showed  me  the  great  pic- 
ture— luckily  it  isn't  by  any  means  a  large  one — 
also  the  case  he's  got  it  in.  It's  an  Iron  map-case 
in  which  he  brought  over  the  plans  of  his  land  in 
Brisbane;  he  wants  to  know  who  would  suspect  it 
of  containing  an  Old  Master,  too?  But  he's  had 
it  fitted  with  a  new  Chubb's  lock,  and  I  managed 
to  take  an  interest  in  the  key  while  he  was  gloating 
over  the  canvas.  I  had  the  wax  in  the  palm  of  my 
hand,  and  I  shall  make  my  duplicate  this  after- 
noon." 

Raffles  looked  at  his  watch  and  jumped  up  say- 
ing he  had  given  me  a  minute  too  much. 

"By  the  way,"  he  added,  "you've  got  to  dine 
with  him  at  the  Metropole  to-night!" 

"I?" 

"Yes;  don't  look  so  scared.  Both  of  us  are  in- 
163 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

vited — I  swore  you  were  dining  with  me.     I  ac- 
cepted for  us  both;  but  I  sha'n't  be  there." 

His  clear  eye  was  upon  me,  bright  with  mean- 
ing and  with  mischief.  I  implored  him  to  tell  me 
what  his  meaning  was. 

"You  will  dine  in  his  private  sitting-room,"  said 
Raffles;  "it  adjoins  his  bedroom.  You  must  keep 
him  sitting  as  long  as  possible,  Bunny,  and  talking 
all  the  time!" 

In  a  flash  I  saw  his  plan. 

"You're  going  for  the  picture  while  we're  at 
dinner?" 

"I  am." 

"If  he  hears  you?" 

"He  sha'n't." 

"But  if  he  does!" 

And  I  fairly  trembled  at  the  thought. 

"If  he  does,"  said  Raffles,  "there  will  be  a  col- 
lision, that's  all.  Revolver  would  be  out  of  place 
in  the  Metropole,  but  I  shall  certainly  take  a  life- 
preserver." 

"But  it's  ghastly!"  I  cried.  "To  sit  and  talk  to 
an  utter  stranger  and  to  know  that  you're  at  work 
in  the  next  room !" 

"Two  thousand  apiece,"  said  Raffles,  quietly. 

"Upon  my  soul  I  believe  I  shall  give  it 
away !" 

164 


Nine  Points  of  the  Law 

"Not  you,  Bunny.  I  know  you  better  than  you 
know  yourself." 

He  put  on  his  coat  and  his  hat. 

"What  time  have  I  to  be  there?"  I  asked  him, 
with  a  groan. 

"Quarter  to  eight.  There  will  be  a  telegram 
from  me  saying  I  can't  turn  up.  He's  a  terror  to 
talk,  you'll  have  no  difficulty  in  keeping  the  ball 
rolling;  but  head  him  off  his  picture  for  all 
you're  worth.  If  he  offers  to  show  It  to  you, 
say  you  must  go.  He  locked  up  the  case  elabo- 
rately this  afternoon,  and  there's  no  earthly 
reason  why  he  should  unlock  it  again  in  this 
hemisphere." 

"Where  shall  I  find  you  when  I  get  away?" 

"I  shall  be  down  at  Esher.    I  hope  to  catch  the 

9-55-" 

"But  surely  I  can  see  you  again  this  after- 
noon?" I  cried  In  a  ferment,  for  his  hand  was  on 
the  door.  "I'm  not  half  coached  up  yet !  I  know  I 
shall  make  a  mess  of  it !" 

"Not  you,"  he  said  again,  "but  /  shall  if  I  waste 
any  more  time.  I've  got  a  deuce  of  a  lot  of  rushing 
about  to  do  yet.  You  won't  find  me  at  my  rooms. 
Why  not  come  down  to  Esher  yourself  by  the  last 
train?  That's  it — down  you  come  with  the  latest 
news!     I'll  tell  old  Debenham  to  expect  you:  he 

165 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

shall  give  us  both  a  bed.     By  Jove !  he  won't  be 
able  to  do  us  too  well  if  he's  got  his  picture." 

"If!"  I  groaned  as  he  nodded  his  adieu;  and  he 
left  me  limp  with  apprehension,  sick  with  fear,  in  a 
perfectly  pitiable  condition  of  pure  stage-fright. 

For,  after  all,  I  had  only  to  act  my  part;  unless 
RafRes  failed  where  he  never  did  fail,  unless  Raf- 
fles the  neat  and  noiseless  was  for  once  clumsy  and 
inept,  all  I  had  to  do  was  indeed  to  "smile  and 
smile  and  be  a  villain."  I  practised  that  smile  half 
the  afternoon.  I  rehearsed  putative  parts  in  hypo- 
thetical conversations.  I  got  up  stories.  I  dipped 
in  a  book  on  Queensland  at  the  club.  And  at  last 
it  was  7.45,  and  I  was  making  my  bow  to  a  some- 
what elderly  man  with  a  small  bald  head  and  a 
retreating  brow. 

"So  you're  Mr.  Raffles's  friend?"  said  he,  over- 
hauling me  rather  rudely  with  his  light  small  eyes. 
"Seen  anything  of  him?  Expected  him  early  to 
show  me  something,  but  he's  never  come." 

No  more,  evidently,  had  his  telegram,  and  my 
troubles  were  beginning  early.  I  said  I  had  not 
seen  Raffles  since  one  o'clock,  telling  the  truth  with 
unction  while  I  could ;  even  as  we  spoke  there  came 
a  knock  at  the  door;  it  was  the  telegram  at  last, 
and,  after  reading  it  himself,  the  Queenslander 
handed  it  to  me. 

166 


Nine  Points  of  the  Law 

"Called  out  of  town!"  he  grumbled.  "Sudden 
illness  of  near  relative !  What  near  relatives  has 
he  got?" 

I  knew  of  none,  and  for  an  instant  I  quailed  be- 
fore the  perils  of  invention;  then  I  replied  that  I 
had  never  met  any  of  his  people,  and  again  felt 
fortified  by  my  veracity. 

"Thought  you  were  bosom  pals?"  said  he,  with 
(as  I  imagined)  a  gleam  of  suspicion  in  his  crafty 
little  eyes. 

"Only  in  town,"  said  I.  "I've  never  been  to  his 
place." 

"Well,"  he  growled,  "I  suppose  it  can't  be 
helped.  Don't  know  why  he  couldn't  come  and 
have  his  dinner  first.  Like  to  see  the  death- 
bed Vd  go  to  without  my  dinner;  it's  a  full-skin 
billet,  if  you  ask  me.  Well,  must  just  dine  with- 
out him,  and  he'll  have  to  buy  his  pig  in  a  poke 
after  all.  Mind  touching  that  bell?  Suppose  you 
know  what  he  came  to  see  me  about?  Sorry  I 
sha'n't  see  him  again,  for  his  own  sake.  I  liked 
Raffles — took  to  him  amazingly.  He's  a  cynic. 
Like  cynics.  One  myself.  Rank  bad  form  of  his 
mother  or  his  aunt,  and  I  hope  she  will  go  and  kick 
the  bucket." 

T  connect  these  specimens  of  his  conversation, 
though  they  were  doubtless  detached  at  the  time, 

167 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

and  interspersed  with  remarks  of  mine  here  and 
there.  They  filled  the  interval  until  dinner  was 
served,  and  they  gave  me  an  impression  of  the 
man  which  his  every  subsequent  utterance  con- 
firmed. It  was  an  impression  which  did  away  with 
all  remorse  for  my  treacherous  presence  at  his 
table.  He  was  that  terrible  type,  the  Silly  Cynic, 
his  aim  a  caustic  commentary  on  all  things  and  all 
men,  his  achievement  mere  vulgar  irreverence  and 
unintelligent  scorn.  Ill-bred  and  ill-informed,  he 
had  (on  his  own  showing)  fluked  into  fortune  on 
a  rise  in  land ;  yet  cunning  he  possessed,  as  well  as 
malice,  and  he  chuckled  till  he  choked  over  the 
misfortunes  of  less  astute  speculators  in  the  same 
boom.  Even  now  I  cannot  feel  much  compunc- 
tion for  my  behavior  by  the  Hon.  J.  M.  Craggs, 
M.L.C. 

But  never  shall  I  forget  the  private  agonies  of 
the  situation,  the  listening  to  my  host  with  one  ear 
and  for  Raffles  with  the  other!  Once  I  heard  him 
— though  the  rooms  were  not  divided  by  the  old- 
fashioned  folding-doors,  and  though  the  door 
that  did  divide  them  was  not  only  shut  but  richly 
curtained,  I  could  have  sworn  I  heard  him  once. 
I  spilt  my  wine  and  laughed  at  the  top  of  my  voice 
at  some  coarse  sally  of  my  host's.  And  I  heard 
nothing  more,  though  my  ears  were  on  the  strain. 

i68 


Nine  Points  of  the  Law 

But  later,  to  my  horror,  when  the  waiter  had  finally 
withdrawn,  Craggs  himself  sprang  up  and  rushed 
to  his  bedroom  without  a  word.  I  sat  like  stone 
till  he  returned. 

"Thought  I  heard  a  door  go,"  he  said.  "Must 
have  been  mistaken  .  .  .  imagination  .  .  . 
gave  me  quite  a  turn.  Raffles  tell  you  priceless 
treasure  I  got  in  there?" 

It  was  the  picture  at  last ;  up  to  this  point  I  had 
kept  him  to  Queensland  and  the  making  of  his  pile. 
I  tried  to  get  him  back  there  now,  but  in  vain.  He 
was  reminded  of  his  great  ill-gotten  possession.  I 
said  that  Raffles  had  just  mentioned  it,  and  that  set 
^him  off.  With  the  confidential  garrulity  of  a  man 
who  has  dined  too  well,  he  plunged  into  his  darling 
topic,  and  I  looked  past  him  at  the  clock.  It  was 
only  a  quartet  to  ten. 

In  common  decency  I  could  not  go  yet.  So 
there  I  sat  (we  were  still  at  port)  and  learnt  what 
had  originally  fired  my  host's  ambition  to  possess 
what  he  was  pleased  to  call  a  "real,  genuine, 
twin-screw,  double-funnelled,  copper-bottomed  Old 
Master" ;  it  was  to  "go  one  better"  than  some  rival 
legislator  of  pictorial  proclivities.  But  even  an 
epitome  of  his  monologue  would  be  so  much  weari- 
ness; suffice  it  that  it  ended  inevitably  in  the  invi- 
tation I  had  dreaded  all  the  evening. 

169 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

"But  you  must  see  It.  Next  room.  This 
way," 

"Isn't  it  packed  up?"  I  inquired  hastily. 

"Lock  and  key.    That's  all." 

"Pray  don't  trouble,"  I  urged. 

"Trouble  be  hanged!"  said  he.    "Come  along." 

And  all  at  once  I  saw  that  to  resist  him  further 
would  be  to  heap  suspicion  upon  myself  against 
the  moment  of  impending  discovery.  I  therefore 
followed  him  into  his  bedroom  without  further 
protest,  and  suffered  him  first  to  show  me  the  Iron 
map-case  which  stood  in  one  corner;  he  took  a 
crafty  pride  in  this  receptacle,  and  I  thought  he 
would  never  cease  descanting  on  its  innocent  ap- 
pearance and  its  Chubb's  lock.  It  seemed  an  Inter- 
minable age  before  the  key  was  in  the  latter.  Then 
the  ward  clicked,  and  my  pulse  stood  still. 

"By  Jove!"  I  cried  next  instant. 

The  canvas  was  in  its  place  among  the  maps ! 

"Thought  It  would  knock  you,"  said  Craggs, 
drawing  It  out  and  unrolling  it  for  my  benefit. 
"Grand  thing,  ain't  it?  Wouldn't  think  It  had 
been  painted  two  hundred  and  thirty  years?  It 
has,  though,  my  word !  Old  Johnson's  face  will 
be  a  treat  when  he  sees  it;  won't  go  bragging 
about  his  pictures  much  more.  Why,  this  one's 
worth  all  the  pictures  in  Colony  o'  Queensland  put 

170 


Nine  Points  of  the  Law 

together.  Worth  fifty  thousand  pounds,  my  boy 
— and  I  got  It  for  five !" 

He  dug  me  in  the  ribs,  and  seemed  in  the  mood 
for  further  confidences.  My  appearance  checked 
him,  and  he  rubbed  his  hands. 

"If  you  take  it  hke  that,"  he  chuckled,  "how  will 
old  Johnson  take  it?  Go  out  and  hang  himself  to 
his  own  picture-rods,  I  hope  !" 

Heaven  knows  what  I  contrived  to  say  at  last. 
Struck  speechless  first  by  my  relief,  I  continued 
silent  from  a  very  different  cause.  A  new  tangle 
of  emotions  tied  my  tongue.  Raffles  had  failed — 
Raffles  had  failed!  Could  I  not  succeed?  Was 
it  too  late?    Was  there  no  way? 

"So  long,"  he  said,  taking  a  last  look  at  the  can- 
vas before  he  rolled  it  up — "so  long  till  we  get  to 
Brisbane."       ' 

The  flutter  I  was  in  as  he  closed  the  case ! 

"For  the  last  time,"  he  went  on,  as  his  keys 
jingled  back  into  his  pocket.  "It  goes  straight  into 
the  strong-room  on  board." 

For  the  last  time !  If  I  could  but  send  him  out 
to  Australia  with  only  Its  legitimate  contents  in 
his  precious  map-case !  If  I  could  but  succeed 
where  Raffles  had  failed! 

We  returned  to  the  other  room.  I  have  no 
notion  how  long  he  talked,  or  what  about.    Whis- 

171       . 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

key  and  soda-water  became  the  order  of  the 
hour.  I  scarcely  touched  it,  but  he  drank  co- 
piously, and  before  eleven  I  left  him  incoherent. 
And  the  last  train  for  Esher  was  the  1 1.50  out  of 
Waterloo. 

I  took  a  hansom  to  my  rooms.  I  was  back  at 
the  hotel  in  thirteen  minutes.  I  walked  upstairs. 
The  corridor  was  empty;  I  stood  an  instant  on  the 
sitting-room  threshold,  heard  a  snore  within,  and 
admitted  myself  softly  with  my  gentleman's  own 
key,  which  it  had  been  a  very  simple  matter  to  take 
away  with  me. 

Craggs  never  moved;  he  was  stretched  on  the 
sofa  fast  asleep.  But  not  fast  enough  for  me.  I 
saturated  my  handkerchief  with  the  chloroform 
I  had  brought,  and  laid  it  gently  over  his  mouth. 
Two  or  three  stertorous  breaths,  and  the  man  was 
a  log. 

I  removed  the  handkerchief;  I  extracted  the 
keys  from  his  pocket.  In  less  than  five  minutes  I 
put  them  back,  after  winding  the  picture  about  my 
body  beneath  my  Inverness  cape.  I  took  some 
whiskey  and  soda-water  before  I  went. 

The  train  was  easily  caught — so  easily  that  I 
trembled  for  ten  minutes  in  my  first-class  smoking 
carriage — in  terror  of  every  footstep  on  the  plat- 
form, in  unreasonable  terror  till  the  end.    Then  at 

172 


Nine  Points  of  the  Law 

last  I  sat  back  and  lit  a  cigarette,  and  the  lights  of 
Waterloo  reeled  out  behind. 

Some  men  were  returning  from  the  theatre.  I 
can  recall  their  conversation  even  now.  They 
were  disappointed  with  the  piece  they  had  seen. 
It  was  one  of  the  later  Savoy  operas,  and  they 
spoke  wistfully  of  the  days  of  "Pinafore"  and 
"Patience."  One  of  them  hummed  a  stave,  and 
there  was  an  argument  as  to  whether  the  air  was 
out  of  "Patience"  or  the  "Mikado."  They  all  got 
out  at  Surbiton,  and  I  was  alone  with  my  triumph 
for  a  few  intoxicating  minutes.  To  think  that  I 
had  succeeded  where  Raffles  had  failed!  Of  all 
our  adventures  this  was  the  first  in  which  I  had 
played  a  commanding  part;  and,  of  them  all,  this 
was  infinitely  the  least  discreditable.  It  left  me 
without  a  conscientious  qualm;  I  had  but  robbed  a 
robber,  when  all  was  said.  And  I  had  done  it 
myself,  single-handed — ipse  egomet! 

I  pictured  Raffles,  his  surprise,  his  delight.  He 
would  think  a  little  more  of  me  in  future.  And 
that  future,  it  should  be  different.  We  had  two 
thousand  pounds  apiece — surely  enough  to  start 
afresh  as  honest  men — and  all  through  me ! 

In  a  glow  I  sprang  out  at  Esher,  and  took  the 
one  belated  cab  that  was  waiting  under  the  bridge. 
In  a  perfect  fever  I  beheld  Broom  Hall,  with  the 

173 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

lower  story  still  lit  up,  and  saw  the  front  door 
open  as  I  climbed  the  steps. 

"Thought  it  was  you,"  said  Raffles  cheerily. 
"It's  all  right.  There's  a  bed  for  you.  Sir  Ber- 
nard's sitting  up  to  shake  your  hand." 

His  good  spirits  disappointed  me.  But  I  knew 
the  man:  he  was  one  of  those  who  wear  their 
brightest  smile  in  the  blackest  hour.  I  knew  him 
too  well  by  this  time  to  be  deceived. 

"I've  got  it!"  I  cried  in  his  ear.     "I've  got  it!" 

"Got  what?"  he  asked  me,  stepping  back. 

"The  picture !" 

''Whatr 

"The  picture.  He  showed  it  me.  You  had  to 
go  without  it ;  I  saw  that.  So  I  determined  to  have 
it.    And  here  it  is." 

"Let's  see,"  said  Raffles  grimly. 

I  threw  off  my  cape  and  unwound  the  canvas 
from  about  my  body.  While  I  was  doing  so  an 
untidy  old  gentleman  made  his  appearance  in 
the  hall,  and  stood  looking  on  with  raised  eye- 
brows. 

"Looks  pretty  fresh  for  an  Old  Master,  doesn't 
she?"  said  Raffles. 

His  tone  was  strange.  I  could  only  suppose 
that  he  was  jealous  of  my  success. 

"So  Craggs  said.  I  hardly  looked  at  it  myself." 
174 


Nine  Points  of  the  Law 

"Well,  look  now — look  closely.  By  Jove,  I 
must  have  faked  her  better  than  I  thought!" 

"It's  a  copy!"  I  cried. 

"It's  the  copy,"  he  answered.  "It's  the  copy 
I've  been  tearing  all  over  the  country  to  procure. 
It's  the  copy  I  faked  back  and  front,  so  that,  on 
your  own  showing,  it  imposed  upon  Craggs,  and 
might  have  made  him  happy  for  life.  And  you  go 
and  rob  him  of  that!" 

I  could  not  speak. 
\    "How  did  you  manage  it?"  inquired  Sir  Ber- 
nard Debenham. 

"Have  you  killed  him?"  asked  Raffles  sar- 
donically. 

I  did  not  look  at  him;  I  turned  to  Sir  Bernard 
Debenham,  and  to  him  I  told  my  story,  hoarsely, 
excitedly,  for^'it  was  all  that  I  could  do  to  keep 
from  breaking  down.  But  as  I  spoke  I  became 
calmer,  and  I  finished  in  mere  bitterness,  with  the 
remark  that  another  time  Raffles  might  tell  me 
what  he  meant  to  do. 

"Another  time!"  he  cried  instantly.  "My  dear 
Bunny,  you  speak  as  though  we  were  going  to  turn 
burglars  for  a  living!" 

"I  trust  you  won't,"  said  Sir  Bernard,  smiling, 
"for  you  are  certainly  two  very  daring  young  men. 
Let  us  hope  our  friend  from  Queensland  will  do 

175 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

as  he  said,  and  not  open  his  map-case  till  he  gets 
back,  there.  He  will  find  my  check  awaiting  him, 
and  I  shall  be  very  much  surprised  if  he  troubles 
any  of  us  again." 

Raffles  and  I  did  not  speak  till  I  was  in  the  room 
which  had  been  prepared  for  me.  Nor  was  I 
anxious  to  do  so  then.  But  he  followed  me  and 
took  my  hand. 

"Bunny,"  said  he,  "don't  you  be  hard  on  a  fel- 
low !  I  was  in  the  deuce  of  a  hurry,  and  didn't  know 
that  I  should  ever  get  what  I  wanted  in  time,  and 
that's  a  fact.  But  it  serves  me  right  that  you  should 
have  gone  and  undone  one  of  the  best  things  I  ever 
did.  As  for  your  handiwork,  old  chap,  you  won't 
mind  my  saying  that  I  didn't  think  you  had  it  in 
you.     In  future " 

"Don't  talk  to  me  about  the  future!"  I  cried. 
"I  hate  the  whole  thing!  I'm  going  to  chuck 
it  up !" 

"So  am  I,"  said  Raffles,  "when  I've  made  my 
pile." 


176 


The  Return  Match 

I  HAD  turned  into  Piccadilly,  one  thick  evening 
in  the  following  November,  when  my  guilty 
heart  stood  still  at  the  sudden  grip  of  a  hand  upon 
my  arm.  I  thought — I  was  always  thinking — that 
my  Inevitable  hour  was  come  at  last.  It  was  only 
Raffles,  however,  who  stood  smiling  at  me  through 
the  fog. 

"Well  met!"  said  he.  "I've  been  looking  for 
you  at  the  club." 

"I  was  just  on  my  way  there,"  I  returned,  with 
an  attempt  io  hide  my  tremors.  It  was  an  inef- 
fectual attempt,  as  I  saw  from  his  broader  smile, 
and  by  the  Indulgent  shake  of  his  head. 

"Come  up  to  my  place  instead,"  said  he.  "I've 
something  amusing  to  tell  you." 

I  made  excuses,  for  his  tone  foretold  the  kind  of 
amusement,  and  it  was  a  kind  against  which  I  had 
successfully  set  my  face  for  months.  I  have  stated 
before,  however,  and  I  can  but  reiterate,  that  to 
me,  at  all  events,  there  was  never  anybody  in  the 
world  so  Irresistible  as  Raffles  when  his  mind  was 

1/7 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

made  up.  That  we  had  both  been  independent  of 
crime  since  our  little  service  to  Sir  Bernard  Deben- 
ham — that  there  had  been  no  occasion  for  that 
masterful  mind  to  be  made  up  in  any  such  direction 
for  many  a  day — was  the  undeniable  basis  of  a 
longer  spell  of  honesty  than  I  had  hitherto  enjoyed 
during  the  term  of  our  mutual  intimacy.  Be  sure 
I  would  deny  it  if  I  could;  the  very  thing  I  am  to 
tell  you  would  discredit  such  a  boast.  I  made  my 
excuses,  as  I  have  said.  But  his  arm  slid  through 
mine,  with  his  little  laugh  of  light-hearted  mas- 
tery. And  even  while  I  argued  we  were  on  his 
staircase  in  the  Albany. 

His  fire  had  fallen  low.  He  poked  and  replen- 
ished it  after  lighting  the  gas.  As  for  me,  I  stood 
by  sullenly  in  my  overcoat  until  he  dragged  it  off 
my  back. 

"What  a  chap  you  are!"  said  Raffles,  playfully. 
"One  would  really  think  I  had  proposed  to  crack 
another  crib  this  blessed  night !  Well,  it  isn't  that, 
Bunny;  so  get  into  that  chair,  and  take  one  of  these 
Sullivans  and  sit  tight." 

He  held  the  match  to  my  cigarette;  he  brought 
me  a  whiskey  and  soda.  Then  he  went  out  into 
the  lobby,  and,  just  as  I  was  beginning  to  feel 
happy,  I  heard  a  bolt  shot  home.  It  cost  me  an 
effort  to  remain  in  that  chair;  next  momertt  he  was 

178 


The  Return  Match 

straddling  another  and  gloating  over  my  discom- 
fiture across  his  folded  arms. 

"You  remember  Milchester,  Bunny,  old  boy?" 

His  tone  was  as  bland  as  mine  was  grim  when  I 
answered  that  I  did. 

"We  had  a  little  match  there  that  wasn't  down 
on  the  card.  Gentlemen  and  Players,  if  you 
recollect?" 

"I  don't  forget  it." 

"Seeing  that  you  never  got  an  innings,  so  to 
speak,  I  thought  you  might.  Well,  the  Gentlemen 
scored  pretty  freely,  but  the  Players  were  all 
caught." 

"Poor  devils !" 

"Don't  be  too  sure.  You  remember  the  fellow 
we  saw  in  the  inn?  The  florid,  over-dressed  chap 
who  I  told  you  was  one  of  the  cleverest  thieves  in 
town?" 

"I  remember  him.  Crawshay  his  name  turned 
out  to  be." 

"Well,  it  was  certainly  the  name  he  was  con- 
victed under,  so  Crawshay  let  it  be.  You  needn't 
waste  any  pity  on  him,  old  chap ;  he  escaped  from 
Dartmoor  yesterday  afternoon." 

"Well  done!" 

Raffles  smiled,  but  his  eyebrows  had  gone  up, 
and  his  shoulders  followed  suit. 

179 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

"You  are  perfectly  right;  it  was  very  well  done 
indeed,  I  wonder  you  didn't  see  it  in  the  paper. 
In  a  dense  fog  on  the  moor  yesterday  good  old 
Crawshay  made  a  bolt  for  it,  and  got  away  with- 
out a  scratch  under  heavy  fire.  All  honor  to  him, 
I  agree;  a  fellow  with  that  much  grit  deserves  his 
liberty.  But  Crawshay  has  a  good  deal  more. 
They  hunted  him  all  night  long;  couldn't  find  him 
for  nuts;  and  that  was  all  you  missed  in  the  morn- 
ing papers." 

He  unfolded  a  Pall  Mall,  which  he  had  brought 
in  with  him. 

"But  listen  to  this;  here's  an  account  of  the 
escape,  with  just  the  addition  which  puts  the  thing 
on  a  higher  lev^el.  'The  fugitive  has  been  traced 
to  Totnes,  where  he  appears  to  have  committed  a 
peculiarly  daring  outrage  in  the  early  hours  of  this 
morning.  He  is  reported  to  hav^e  entered  the  lodg- 
ings of  the  Rev.  A.  H.  Ellingworth,  curate  of  the 
parish,  who  missed  his  clothes  on  rising  at  the  usual 
hour;  later  In  the  morning  those  of  the  convict 
were  discovered  neatly  folded  at  the  bottom  of  a 
drawer.  Meanwhile  Crawshay  had  made  good 
his  second  escape,  though  it  Is  believed  that 
so  distinctive  a  guise  will  lead  to  his  recapture 
during  the  day.'  What  do  you  think  of  that, 
Bunny?" 

i8o 


The  Return  Match 

"He  is  certainly  a  sportsman,"  said  I,  reaching 
for  the  paper. 

"He's  more,"  said  Raffles,  "he's  an  artist,  and 
I  envy  him.  The  curate,  of  all  men  !  Beautiful — 
beautiful !  But  that's  not  all.  I  saw  just  now  on 
the  board  at  the  club  that  there's  been  an  outrage 
on  the  line  near  Dawlish.  Parson  found  insensible 
in  the  six-foot  way.  Our  friend  again!  The  tele- 
gram doesn't  say  so,  but  it's  obvious;  he's  simply 
knocked  some  other  fellow  out,  changed  clothes 
again,  and  come  on  gayly  to  town.  Isn't  it  great  ? 
I  do  believe  it's  the  best  thing  of  the  kind  that's 
ever  been  done !" 

"But  why  should  he  come  to  town?" 

In  an  instant  the  enthusiasm  faded  from  Raf- 
fles's  face\*  clearly  I  had  reminded  him  of  some 
prime  anxiety,  forgotten  in  his  impersonal  joy  over 
the  exploit  of  a  fellow-criminal.  He  looked  over 
his  shoulder  towards  the  lobby  before  replying. 

"I  believe,"  said  he,  "that  the  beggar's  on  my 
tracks!" 

And  as  he  spoke  he  was  himself  again — quietly 
amused — cynically  unperturbed — characteristically 
enjoying  the  situation  and  my  surprise. 

"But  look  here,  what  do  you  mean?"  said  I. 
"What  does  Crawshay  know  about  you?" 

"Not  much;  but  he  suspects." 
i8i 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

"Why  should  he?" 

"Because,  in  his  way  he's  very  nearly  as  good  a 
man  as  I  am;  because,  my  dear  Bunny,  with  eyes 
in  his  head  and  brains  behind  them,  he  couldn't 
help  suspecting.  He  saw  me  once  in  town  with  old 
Baird.  He  must  have  seen  me  that  day  in  the  pub. 
on  the  way  to  Milchester,  as  well  as  afterwards  on 
the  cricket-field.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  know  he 
did,  for  he  wrote  and  told  me  so  before  his  trial." 

"He  wrote  to  you!     And  you  never  told  me!" 

The  old  shrug  answered  the  old  grievance. 

"What  was  the  good,  my  dear  fellow?  It 
would  only  have  worried  you." 

"Well,  what  did  he  say?" 

"That  he  was  sorry  he  had  been  run  in  before 
getting  back  to  town,  as  he  had  proposed  doing 
himself  the  honor  of  paying  me  a  call;  however, 
he  trusted  It  was  only  a  pleasure  deferred,  and  he 
begged  me  not  to  go  and  get  lagged  myself  before 
he  came  out.  Of  course  he  knew  the  Melrose 
necklace  was  gone,  though  he  hadn't  got  it;  and 
he  said  that  the  man  who  could  take  that  and  leave 
the  rest  was  a  man  after  his  own  heart.  And  so 
on,  with  certain  little  proposals  for  the  far  future, 
which  I  fear  may  be  the  very  near  future  indeed ! 
I'm  only  surprised  he  hasn't  turned  up  yet." 

He  looked  again  towards  the  lobby,  which  he 
182 


The  Return  Match 

had  left  in  darkness,  with  the  inner  door  shut  as 
carefully  as  the  outer  one.  I  asked  him  what  he 
meant  to  do. 

"Let  him  knock — if  he  gets  so  far.  The  porter 
is  to  say  I'm  out  of  town;  it  will  be  true,  too,  in 
another  hour  or  so." 

"You're  going  off  to-night?" 

"By  the  7.15  from  Liverpool  Street.  I  don't 
say  much  about  my  people,  Bunny,  but  I  have  the 
best  of  sisters  married  to  a  country  parson  in  the 
eastern  counties.  They  always  make  me  welcome, 
and  let  me  read  the  lessons  for  the  sake  of  getting 
me  to  church.  I'm  sorry  you  won't  be  there  to 
hear  me  on  Sunday,  Bunny.  I've  figured  out  some 
of  my  best  schemes  in  that  parish,  and  I  know  of 
no  better  port  in  a  storm.  But  I  must  pack. 
I  thought  I'd  just  let  you  know  where  I  was 
going,  and  why,  in  case  you  cared  to  follow  my 
example." 

He  flung  the  stump  of  his  cigarette  into  the  fire, 
stretched  himself  as  he  rose,  and  remained  so  long 
in  the  Inelegant  attitude  that  my  eyes  mounted 
from  his  body  to  his  face;  a  second  later  they  had 
followed  his  eyes  across  the  room,  and  I  also  was 
on  my  legs.  On  the  threshold  of  the  folding  doors 
that  divided  bedroom  and  sitting-room,  a  well- 
built  man  stood  in  ill-fitting  broadcloth,  and  bowed 

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The  Amateur  Cracksman 

to  us  until  his  bullet  head  presented  an  unbroken 
disk  of  short  red  hair. 

Brief  as  was  my  survey  of  this  astounding  ap- 
parition, the  interval  was  long  enough  for  Raffles 
to  recover  his  composure;  his  hands  were  in  his 
pockets,  and  a  smile  upon  his  face,  when  my  eyes 
flew  back  to  him. 

"Let  me  introduce  you.  Bunny,"  said  he,  "to 
our  distinguished  colleague,  Mr.  Reginald  Craw- 
shay." 

The  bullet  head  bobbed  up,  and  there  was  a 
wrinkled  brow  above  the  coarse,  shaven  face,  crim- 
son also,  I  remember,  from  the  grip  of  a  collar 
several  sizes  too  small.  But  I  noted  nothing  con- 
sciously at  the  time.  I  had  jumped  to  my  own 
conclusion,  and  I  turned  on  Raffles  with  an  oath. 

"It's  a  trick!"  I  cried.  "It's  another  of  your 
cursed  tricks !  You  got  him  here,  and  then  you 
got  me.  You  want  me  to  join  you,  I  suppose?  I'll 
see  you  damned!" 

So  cold  was  the  stare  which  met  this  outburst 
that  I  became  ashamed  of  my  words  while  they 
were  yet  upon  my  lips. 

"Really,  Bunny!"  said  Raffles,  and  turned  his 
shoulder  with  a  shrug. 

"Lord  love  yer,"  cried  Crawshay,  "  'e  knew 
nothin'.     'E  didn't  expect  me;  ''e's  all  right.     And 

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The  Return  Match 

you're  the  cool  canary,  yoii  are,"  he  went  on  to 
Raffles.  "I  knoo  you  were,  but,  do  me  proud, 
you're  one  after  my  own  kidney!"  And  he  thrust 
out  a  shaggy  hand. 

"After  that,"  said  Raffles,  taking  it,  "what  am 
I  to  say?  But  you  must  have  heard  my  opinion 
of  you.  I  am  proud  to  make  your  acquaintance. 
How  the  deuce  did  you  get  in?" 

"Never  you  mind,"  said  Crawshay,  loosening 
his  collar;  "let's  talk  about  how  I'm  to  get  out. 
Lord  love  yer,  but  that's  better!"  There  was  a 
livid  ring  round  his  bull-neck,  that  he  fingered  ten- 
derly. "Didn't  know  how  much  longer  I  might 
have  to  play  the  gent,"  he  explained;  "didn't  know 
who  you'd  bring  in." 

"Drink  whiskey  and  soda?"  inquired  Raffles, 
when  the  convict  was  in  the  chair  from  which  I 
had  leapt. 

"No,  I  drink  it  neat,"  replied  Crawshay,  "but 
I  talk  business  first.  You  don't  get  over  me  like 
that.  Lor'  love  yer!" 

"Well,  then,  what  can  I  do  for  you  ?" 

"You  know  without  me  tellin'  you." 

"Give  it  a  name." 

"Clean  heels,  then;  that's  what  I  want  to  show, 
and  I  leaves  the  way  to  you.  We're  brothers  in 
arms,  though   I   ain't  armed  this  time.     It  ain't 

i8q 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

necessary.  You've  too  much  sense.  But  brothers 
we  are,  and  you'll  see  a  brother  through.  Let's 
put  it  at  that.  You'll  see  me  through  in  yer  own 
way.     I  leaves  it  all  to  you." 

His  tone  was  rich  with  concihation  and  con- 
cession; he  bent  over  and  tore  a  pair  of  button 
boots  from  his  bare  feet,  which  he  stretched  to- 
wards the  fire,  painfully  uncurling  his  toes. 

"I  hope  you  take  a  larger  size  than  them,"  said 
he.  "I'd  have  had  a  see  if  you'd  given  me  time. 
I  wasn't  in  long  afore  you." 

"And  you  won't  tell  me  how  you  got  in?" 

"Wot's  the  use?  I  can't  teach  you  nothin'. 
Besides,  I  want  out.  I  want  out  of  London,  an' 
England,  an'  bloomin'  Europe  too.  That's  all  I 
want  of  you,  mister.  I  don't  arst  how  you  go  on 
the  job.  You  know  w'ere  I  come  from,  'cos  I 
'eard  you  say;  you  know  w'ere  I  want  to  'ead  for, 
'cos  I've  just  told  yer;  the  details  I  leaves  entirely 
to  you." 

"Well,"  said  Raffles,  "we  must  see  what  can  be 
done." 

"We  must,"  said  Mr.  Crawshay,  and  leaned 
back  comfortably,  and  began  twirling  his  stubby 
thumbs. 

Raffles  turned  to  me  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eye; 
but  his  forehead  was  scored  with  thought,  and  re- 

i86 


The  Return  Match 

solve  mingled  with  resignation  in  the  lines  of  his 
mouth.  And  he  spoke  exactly  as  though  he  and  I 
were  alone  in  the  room. 

"You  seize  the  situation,  Bunny?  If  our  friend 
here  is  'copped,'  to  speak  his  language,  he  means 
to  'blow  the  gaff'  on  you  and  me.  He  is  consider- 
ate enough  not  to  say  so  in  so  many  words,  but 
it's  plain  enough,  and  natural  enough  for  that  mat- 
ter. I  would  do  the  same  in  his  place.  We  had 
the  bulge  before;  he  has  it  now;  it's  perfectly  fair. 
We  must  take  on  this  job;  we  aren't  in  a  position 
to  refuse  it;  even  if  we  were,  I  should  take  it  on! 
Our  friend  is  a  great  sportsman;  he  has  got  clear 
away  from  Dartmoor;  it  would  be  a  thousand 
pities  to  let  him  go  back.  Nor  shall  he;  not  if  I 
can  think  of  a  way  of  getting  him  abroad." 

"Any  way  you  like,"  murmured  Crawshay, 
with  his  eyes  shut.  "I  leaves  the  'ole  thing  to 
you." 

"But  you'll  have  to  wake  up  and  tell  us  things." 

"All  right,  mister;  but  I'm  fair  on  the  rocks 
for  a  sleep !" 

And  he  stood  up,  blinking. 

"Think  you  were  traced  to  town?" 

"Must  have  been." 

"And  here?" 

"Not  in  this  fog — not  with  any  luck." 
187 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

Raffles  went  into  the  bedroom,  lit  the  gas  there, 
and  returned  next  minute. 

"So  you  got  in  by  the  window?" 

"That's  about  it." 

"It  was  devilish  smart  of  you  to  know  which 
one;  it  beats  me  how  you  brought  it  off  in  day- 
light, fog  or  no  fog !  But  let  that  pass.  You  don't 
think  you  were  seen?" 

"I  don't  think  it,  sir." 

"Well,  let's  hope  you  are  right.  I  shall  recon- 
noitre and  soon  find  out.  And  you'd  better  come 
too,  Bunny,  and  have  something  to  eat  and  talk  It 
over." 

As  Raffles  looked  at  me,  I  looked  at  Crawshay, 
anticipating  trouble;  and  trouble  brewed  in  his 
blank,  fierce  face,  in  the  glitter  of  his  startled  eyes, 
in  the  sudden  closing  of  his  fists. 

"And  what's  to  become  o'  me?"  he  cried  out 
with  an  oath. 

"You  wait  here." 

"No,  you  don't,"  he  roared,  and  at  a  bound  had 
his  back  to  the  door.  "You  don't  get  round  me 
like  that,  you  cuckoos!" 

Raffles  turned  to  me  with  a  twitch  of  the  shoul- 
ders. 

"That's  the  worst  of  these  professors,"  said  he; 
"they  never  will  use  their  heads.     They  see  the 

i88 


The  Return  Match 

pegs,  and  they  mean  to  hit  'em;  but  that's  all  they 
do  see  and  mean,  and  they  think  we're  the  same. 
No  wonder  we  licked  them  last  time !" 

"Don't  talk  through  yer  neck,"  snarled  the  con- 
vict.    "Talk  out  straight,  curse  you !" 

"Right,"  said  Raffles.  "I'll  talk  as  straight  as 
you  like.  You  say  you  put  yourself  in  my  hands — 
you  leave  it  all  to  me — yet  you  don't  trust  me  an 
inch  !  I  know  what's  to  happen  if  I  fail.  I  accept 
the  risk.  I  take  this  thing  on.  Yet  you  think  I'm 
going  straight  out  to  give  you  away  and  make  you 
give  me  away  in  my  turn.  You're  a  fool,  Mr. 
Crawshay,  though  you  have  broken  Dartmoor; 
you've  got  to  listen  to  a  better  man,  and  obey  him. 
I  see  you  through  in  my  own  way,  or  not  at  all. 
I  come  and  go  as  I  like,  and  with  whom  I  hke, 
without  your  interference;  you  stay  here  and  lie 
just  as  low  as  you  know  how,  be  as  wise  as  your 
word,  and  leave  the  whole  thing  to  me.  If  you 
won't — if  you're  fool  enough  not  to  trust  me — 
there's  the  door.  Go  out  and  say  what  you  like, 
and  be  damned  to  you !" 

Crawshay  slapped  his  thigh. 

"That's  talking!"  said  he.  "Lord  love  yer,  I 
know  where  I  am  when  you  talk  like  that.  I'll 
trust  yer.  I  know  a  man  when  he  get's  his  tongue 
between  his  teeth;  you're  all  right.     I  don't  say 

189 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

so  much  about  this  other  gent,  though  I  saw  him 
along  with  you  on  the  job  that  time  in  the  prov- 
inces; but  if  he's  a  pal  of  yours,  Mr.  Raffles,  he'll 
be  all  right  too.  I  only  hope  you  gents  ain't  too 
stony " 

And  he  touched  his  pockets  with  a  rueful 
face. 

"I  only  went  for  their  togs,"  said  he.  "You 
never  struck  two  such  stony-broke  cusses  in  yer 
hfe!" 

"That's  all  right,"  said  Raffles.  "We'll  see  you 
through  properly.  Leave  it  to  us,  and  vou  sit 
tight." 

"Rightum!"  said  Crawshay.  "And  I'll  have  a 
sleep  time  you're  gone.  But  no  sperrits — no, 
thank'ee — not  yet !  Once  let  me  loose  on  the  lush, 
and,  Lord  lov'e  yer,  I'm  a  gone  coon!" 

Raffles  got  his  overcoat,  a  long,  light  driving- 
coat,  I  remember,  and  even  as  he  put  it  on  our 
fugitive  was  dozing  in  the  chair;  we  left  him  mur- 
muring incoherently,  with  the  gas  out,  and  his  bare 
feet  toasting. 

"Not  such  a  bad  chap,  that  professor,"  said 
Raffles  on  the  stairs;  "a  real  genius  in  his  way,  too, 
though  his  methods  are  a  little  elementary  for  my 
taste.  But  technique  isn't  everything;  to  get  out 
of  Dartmoor  and   into  the  Albany   in  the   same 

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The  Return  Match 

twenty-four  hours  is  a  whole  that  justifies  its 
parts.     Good  Lord!" 

We  had  passed  a  man  in  the  foggy  courtyard, 
and  Raffles  had  nipped  my  arm. 

*'Who  was  it?" 

"The  last  man  we  want  to  see  !  I  hope  to  heaven 
he  didn't  hear  me !" 

"But  who  is  he,  Raffles?" 

"Our  old  friend  Mackenzie,  from  the  Yard!" 

I  stood  still  with  horror. 

"Do  you  think  he's  on  Crawshay's  track?" 

"I  don't  know.     I'll  find  out." 

And  before  I  could  remonstrate  he  had  wheeled 
me  round;  when  I  found  my  voice  he  merely 
laughed,  and  whispered  that  the  bold  course  was 
the  safe  one  every  time. 

"But  it's  madness " 

"Not  it.  Shut  up!  Is  that  you,  Mr.  Mac- 
kenzie?" 

The  detective  turned  about  and  scrutinized  us 
keenly;  and  through  the  gaslit  mist  I  noticed  that 
his  hair  was  grizzled  at  the  temples,  and  his  face 
still  cadaverous,  from  the  wound  that  had  nearly 
been  his  death. 

"Ye  have  the  advantage  o'  me,  sirs,"  said 
he. 

"I  hope  you're  fit  again,"  said  my  companion. 
191 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

"My  name  Is  Raffles,  and  we  met  at  Mllchestei 
last  year." 

"Is  that  a  fact?"  cried  the  Scotchman,  with 
quite  a  start.  "Yes,  now  I  remember  your  face, 
and  yours  too,  sir.  Ay,  yon  was  a  bad  business, 
but  it  ended  vera  well,  an'  that's  the  main 
thing." 

His  native  caution  had  returned  to  him.  Raf- 
fles pinched  my  arm. 

"Yes,  it  ended  splendidly,  but  for  you,"  said  he. 
"But  what  about  this  escape  of  the  leader  of  the 
gang,  that  fellow  Crawshay?  What  do  you  think 
of  that,  eh?" 

"I  havena  the  parteeculars,"  replied  the  Scot. 

"Good!"  cried  Raffles.  "I  was  only  afraid  you 
might  be  on  his  tracks  once  more!" 

Mackenzie  shook  his  head  with  a  dry  smile, 
and  wished  us  good  evening  as  an  invisible  window 
was  thrown  up,  and  a  whistle  blown  softly  through 
the  fog. 

"We  must  see  this  out,"  whispered  Raffles. 
"Nothing  more  natural  than  a  little  curiosity  on 
our  part.     After  him,  quick!" 

And  we  followed  the  detective  into  another 
entrance  on  the  same  side  as  that  from  which  we 
had  emerged,  the  left-hand  side  on  one's  way  to 
Piccadilly;  quite  openly  we  followed  him,  and  at 

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The  Return  Match 

the  foot  of  the  stairs  met  one  of  the  porters  of  the 
place.     Raffles  asked  him  what  was  wrong. 

"Nothing,  sir,"  said  the  fellow  glibly. 

"Rot!"  said  Raffles.  "That  was  Mackenzie, 
the  detective.  I've  just  been  speaking  to  him. 
What's  he  here  for?  Come  on,  my  good  fellow; 
we  won't  give  you  away,  if  you've  instructions  not 
to  tell." 

The  man  looked  quaintly  wistful,  the  tempta- 
tion of  an  audience  hot  upon  him;  a  door  shut  up- 
stairs, and  he  fell. 

"It's  like  this,"  he  whispered.  "This  afternoon 
a  gen'leman  comes  arfter  rooms,  and  I  sent  him  to 
the  orfice;  one  of  the  clurks,  'e  goes  round  with 
'im  an'  shows  'im  the  empties,  an'  the  gen'leman's 
partic'ly  struck  on  the  set  the  coppers  is  up  in  now. 
So  he  sends  the  clurk  to  fetch  the  manager,  as 
there  was  one  or  two  things  he  wished  to  speak 
about;  an'  when  they  come  back,  blowed  if  the  gent 
isn't  gone !  Beg  yer  pardon,  sir,  but  he's  clean 
disappeared  off  the  face  o'  the  premises!"  And 
the  porter  looked  at  us  with  shining  eyes. 

"Well?"  said  Raffles. 

"Well,  sir,  they  looked  about,  an'  looked  about, 
an'  at  larst  they  give  him  up  for  a  bad  job ;  thought 
he'd  changed  his  mind  an'  didn't  want  to  tip  the 
clurk;  so  they  shut  up  the  place  an'  come  away. 

193 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

An'  that's  all  till  about  'alf  an  hour  ago,  when  I 
takes  tiie  manager  his  extry-speshul  Star;  in  about 
ten  minutes  he  comes  running  out  with  a  note,  an' 
sends  me  with  it  to  Scotland  Yard  in  a  hansom. 
An'  that's  all  I  know,  sir — straight.  The  coppers 
is  up  there  now,  and  the  tec,  and  the  manager,  and 
they  think  their  gent  is  about  the  place  some- 
where still.  Least,  I  reckon  that's  their  idea; 
but  who  he  is,  or  what  they  want  him  for,  I 
dunno." 

"Jolly  interesting!"  said  Raffles.  "I'm  going 
up  to  inquire.  Come  on.  Bunny;  there  should  be 
some  fun." 

"Beg  yer  pardon,  Mr.  Raffles,  but  you  won't  say 
nothing  about  me?" 

"Not  I ;  you're  a  good  fellow.  I  won't  forget  it 
if  this  leads  to  sport.  Sport!"  he  whispered  as  we 
reached  the  landing.  "It  looks  like  precious  poor 
sport  for  you  and  me.  Bunny!" 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?" 

"I  don't  know.  There's  no  time  to  think.  This, 
to  start  with." 

And  he  thundered  on  the  shut  door;  a  police- 
man opened  it.  Raffles  strode  past  him  with  the 
air  of  a  chief  commissioner,  and  I  followed  before 
the  man  had  recovered  from  his  astonishment. 
The  bare  boards  rang  under  us;  in  the  bedroom  we 

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The  Return  Match 

found  a  knot  of  officers  stooping  over  the  window- 
ledge  with  a  constable's  lantern.  Mackenzie  was 
the  first  to  stand  upright,  and  he  greeted  us  with 
a  glare. 

"May  I  ask  what  you  gentlemen  want?" 
said  he. 

"We  want  to  lend  a  hand,"  said  Raffles  briskly. 
"We  lent  one  once  before,  and  It  was  my  friend 
here  who  took  over  from  you  the  fellow  who  split 
on  all  the  rest,  and  held  him  tightly.  Surely  that 
entitles  him,  at  all  events,  to  see  any  fun  that's 
going?  As  for  myself,  well,  It's  true  I  only  helped 
to  carry  you  to  the  house;  but  for  old  acquaintance 
I  do  hope,  my  dear  Mr.  Mackenzie,  that  you  will 
permit  us  to  share  such  sport  as  there  may  be.  I 
myself  can  only  stop  a  few  minutes,  In  any 
case." 

"Then  ye'll  not  see  much,"  growled  the  detec- 
tive, "for  he's  not  up  here.  Constable,  go  you  and 
stand  at  the  foot  o'  the  stairs,  and  let  no  other  body 
come  up  on  any  conseederatlon ;  these  gentlemen 
may  be  able  to  help  us  after  all." 

"That's  kind  of  you,  Mackenzie!"  cried  Raffles 
warmly.  "But  what  is  it  all?  I  questioned  a  por- 
ter I  met  coming  down,  but  could  get  nothing  out 
of  him,  except  that  somebody  had  been  to  see  these 
rooms  and  not  since  been  seen  himself." 

195 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

"He's  a  man  we  want,"  said  Mackenzie.  "He's 
concealed  himself  somewhere  about  these  prem- 
ises, or  I'm  vera  much  mistaken.  D'ye  reside  in 
the  Albany,  Mr.  Raffles?" 

"I  do." 

"Will  your  rooms  be  near  these?" 

"On  the  next  staircase  but  one." 

"Ye'll  just  have  left  them?" 

"Just." 

"Been  in  all  the  afternoon,  likely?" 

"Not  all." 

"Then  I  may  have  to  search  your  rooms,  sir.  I 
am  prepared  to  search  every  room  in  the  Albany! 
Our  man  seems  to  have  gone  for  the  leads;  but 
unless  he's  left  more  marks  outside  than  in,  or  we 
find  him  up  there,  I  shall  have  the  entire  building 
to  ransack." 

"I  will  leave  you  my  key,"  said  Raffles  at  once. 
"I  am  dining  out,  but  I'll  leave  it  with  the  officer 
down  below." 

I  caught  my  breath  in  mute  amazement.  What 
was  the  meaning  of  this  insane  promise?  It  was 
wilful,  gratuitous,  suicidal;  it  made  me  catch  at 
his  sleeve  in  open  horror  and  disgust;  but,  with  a 
word  of  thanks,  Mackenzie  had  returned  to  his 
window-sill,  and  we  sauntered  unv/atched  through 
the  folding-doors  into  the  adjoining  room.     Here 

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The  Return  Match 

the  window  looked  down  into  the  courtyard;  it 
was  still  open;  and  as  we  gazed  out  in  apparent 
idleness,  Raffles  reassured  me. 

"It's  all  right,  Bunny;  you  do  what  I  tell  you 
and  leave  the  rest  to  me.  It's  a  tight  corner,  but 
I  don't  despair.  What  you've  got  to  do  is  to  stick 
to  these  chaps,  especially  if  they  search  my  rooms; 
they  mustn't  poke  about  more  than  necessary,  and 
they  won't  if  you're  there." 

"But  where  will  you  be?  You're  never  going 
to  leave  me  to  be  landed  alone?" 

"If  I  do,  it  will  be  to  turn  up  trumps  at  the 
right  moment.  Besides,  there  are  such  things  as 
windows,  and  Crawshay's  the  man  to  take  his 
risks.  You  must  trust  me.  Bunny;  you've  known 
me  long  enough." 

"Are  you  going  now?" 

"There's  no  time  to  lose.  Stick  to  them,  old 
chap ;  don't  let  them  suspect  yoii,  whatever  else  you 
do."  His  hand  lay  an  instant  on  my  shoulder; 
then  he  left  me  at  the  window,  and  recrossed  the 
room. 

"I've  got  to  go  now,"  I  heard  him  say;  "but  my 
friend  will  stay  and  see  this  through,  and  I'll  leave 
the  gas  on  in  my  rooms,  and  my  key  with  the  con- 
stable downstairs.  Good  luck,  Mackenzie;  only 
wish  I  could  stay." 

197 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

"Good-by,  sir,"  came  in  a  preoccupied  voice, 
"and  many  thanks." 

Mackenzie  was  still  busy  at  his  window,  and  I 
remained  at  mine,  a  prey  to  mingled  fear  and 
wrath,  for  all  my  knowledge  of  Raffles  and  of  his 
infinite  resource.  By  this  time  I  felt  that  I  knew 
more  or  less  what  he  would  do  in  any  given  emer- 
gency; at  least  I  could  conjecture  a  characteristic 
course  of  equal  cunning  and  audacity.  He  would 
return  to  his  rooms,  put  Crawshay  on  his  guard, 
and — stow  him  away?  No — there  were  such 
things  as  windows.  Then  why  was  Raffles  going 
to  desert  us  all  ?  I  thought  of  many  things — lastly 
of  a  cab.  These  bedroom  windows  looked  into  a 
narrow  side-street;  they  were  not  very  high;  from 
them  a  man  might  drop  on  to  the  roof  of  a  cab — 
even  as  it  passed — and  be  driven  away  even 
under  the  noses  of  the  police !  I  pictured 
Raffles  driving  that  cab,  unrecognizable  in  the 
foggy  night;  the  vision  came  to  me  as  he  passed 
under  the  window,  tucking  up  the  collar  of  his 
great  driving-coat  on  the  way  to  his  rooms;  it  was 
still  with  me  when  he  passed  again  on  his  way 
back,  and  stopped  to  hand  the  constable  his  key. 

"We're  on  his  track,"  said  a  voice  behind  me. 
"He's  got  up  on  the  leads,  sure  enough,  though 
how  he  managed  it  from  yon  window  is  a  myst'ry 

198 


The  Return  Match 

to  me.  We're  going  to  lock  up  here  and  try  what 
like  it  is  from  the  attics.  So  you'd  better  come  with 
us  if  you've  a  mind." 

The  top  floor  at  the  Albany,  as  elsewhere,  is  de- 
voted to  the  servants — a  congeries  of  little  kitchens 
and  cubicles,  used  by  many  as  lumber-rooms — byt 
Raffles  among  the  many.  The  annex  in  this  case 
was,  of  course,  empty  as  the  rooms  below;  and  that 
was  lucky,  for  we  filled  it,  what  with  the  manager, 
who  now  joined  us,  and  another  tenant  whom  he 
brought  with  him  to  Mackenzie's  undisguised 
annoyance. 

"Better  let  in  all  Piccadilly  at  a  crown  a  head," 
said  he.  "Here,  my  man,  out  you  go  on  the  roof 
to  make  one  less,  and  have  your  truncheon  handy." 

We  crowded  to  the  little  window,  which  Mac- 
kenzie took  care  to  fill;  and  a  minute  yielded  no 
sound  but  the  crunch  and  slither  of  constabulary 
boots  upon  sooty  slates.    Then  came  a  shout. 

"What  now?"  cried  Mackenzie. 

"A  rope,"  we  heard,  "hanging  from  the  spout 
by  a  hook!" 

"Sirs,"  purred  Mackenzie,  "yon's  how  he  got 
up  from  below !  He  would  do  it  with  one  o'  they 
telescope  sticks,  an'  I  never  thocht  o't !  How  long 
a  rope,  my  lad?" 

"Quite  short.     I've  got  it." 
199 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

"Did  it  hang  over  a  window?  Ask  him  that!" 
cried  the  manager.  "He  can  see  by  leaning  over 
the  parapet." 

The  question  was  repeated  by  Mackenzie;  a 
pause,  then  "Yes,  it  did." 

"Ask  him  how  many  windows  along!"  shouted 
the  manager  in  high  excitement. 

"Six,  he  says,"  said  Mackenzie  next  minute; 
and  he  drew  in  his  head  and  shoulders.  "I  should 
just  like  to  see  those  rooms,  six  windows  along." 

"Mr.  Raffies,"  announced  the  manager  after  a 
mental  calculation. 

"Is  that  a  fact?"  cried  Mackenzie.  "Then  we 
shall  have  no  difficulty  at  all.  He's  left  me  his  key 
down  below." 

The  words  had  a  dry,  speculative  intonation, 
which  even  then  I  found  time  to  dislike;  it  was  as 
though  the  coincidence  had  already  struck  the 
Scotchman  as  something  more. 

"Where  is  Mr.  Raffles?"  asked  the  manager, 
as  we  all  filed  downstairs. 

"He's  gone  out  to  his  dinner,"  said  Mackenzie. 

"Are  you  sure?" 

"I  saw  him  go,"  said  I.  My  heart  was  beating 
horribly.  I  would  not  trust  myself  to  speak  again. 
But  I  wormed  my  way  to  a  front  place  in  the  little 
procession,  and  was,  in   fact,  the  second  man  to 

200 


The  Return  Match 

cross  the  threshold  that  had  been  the  Rubicon  of 
my  hfe.  As  I  did  so  I  uttered  a  cry  of  pain,  for 
Mackenzie  had  trod  back  heavily  on  my  toes;  in 
another  second  I  saw  the  reason,  and  saw  it  with 
another  and  a  louder  cry. 

A  man  was  lying  at  full  length  before  the  fire 
on  his  back,  with  a  little  wound  in  the  white  fore- 
head, and  the  blood  draining  into  his  eyes.  And 
the  man  was  Raffles  himself! 

"Suicide,"  said  Mackenzie  calmly.  "No — 
here's  the  poker — looks  more  like  murder."  He 
went  on  his  knees  and  shook  his  head  quite  cheer- 
fully. "An'  it's  not  even  murder,"  said  he,  with 
a  shade  of  disgust  in  his  matter-of-fact  voice; 
"yon's  no  more  than  a  flesh-wound,  and  I  have  my 
doubts  whether  it  felled  him;  but,  sirs,  he  just 
stinks  o'  chloryform !" 

He  got  up  and  fixed  his  keen  gray  eyes  upon 
me;  my  own  were  full  of  tears,  but  they  faced  him 
unashamed. 

"I  understood  ye  to  say  ye  saw  him  go  out?" 
said  he  sternly. 

"I  saw  that  long  driving-coat;  of  course,  I 
thought  he  was  inside  it." 

"And  I  could  ha'  sworn  it  was  the  same  gent 
when  he  give  me  the  key !" 

It  was  the  disconsolate  voice  of  the  constable 

20I 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

in  the  background;  on  him  turned  Mackenzie, 
white  to  the  lips. 

"You'd  think  anything,  some  of  you  damned 
policemen,"  said  he.  "What's  your  number,  you 
rotter?  P  34?  You'll  be  hearing  more  of  this, 
Mr.  P  34!  If  that  gentleman  was  dead — instead 
of  coming  to  himself  while  I'm  talking — do  you 
know  what  you'd  be  ?  Guilty  of  his  manslaughter, 
you  stuck  pig  in  buttons!  Do  you  know  who 
you've  let  slip,  butter-fingers?  Crawshay — no  less 
— him  that  broke  Dartmoor  yesterday.  By  the 
God  that  made  ye,  P  34,  if  I  lose  him  I'll  hound  ye 
from  the  forrce !" 

Working  face — shaking  fist — a  calm  man  on 
fire.  It  was  a  new  side  of  Mackenzie,  and  one  to 
mark  and  to  digest.  Next  moment  he  had  flounced 
from  our  midst. 

"Diflicult  thing  to  break  your  own  head,"  said 
Raffles  later;  "infinitely  easier  to  cut  your  own 
throat.  Chloroform's  another  matter;  when 
you've  used  it  on  others,  you  know  the  dose  to  a 
nicety.  So  you  thought  I  was  really  gone  ?  Poor 
old  Bunny!  But  I  hope  Mackenzie  saw  your 
face?" 

"He  did,"  said  I.  I  would  not  tell  him  all  Mac- 
kenzie must  have  seen,  however. 

202 


The  Return  Match 

"That's  all  right.  I  wouldn't  have  had  him 
miss  it  for  worlds;  and  you  mustn't  think  me  a 
brute,  old  boy,  for  I  fear  that  man,  and,  know, 
we  sink  or  swim  together." 

"And  now  we  sink  or  swim  with  Crawshay, 
too,"  said  I  dolefully. 

"Not  we !"  said  Raffles  with  conviction.  "Old 
Crawshay's  a  true  sportsman,  and  he'll  do  by  us 
as  we've  done  by  him ;  besides,  this  makes  us  quits ; 
and  I  don't  think.  Bunny,  that  we'll  take  on  the 
professors  again!" 


203 


The  Gift  of  the  Emperor 
I 

WHEN  the  King  of  the  Cannibal  Islands 
made  faces  at  Queen  Victoria,  and  a 
European  monarch  set  the  cables  tingling  with 
his  compliments  on  the  exploit,  the  indignation  in 
England  was  not  less  than  the  surprise,  for  the 
thing  was  not  so  common  as  it  has  since  become. 
But  when  it  transpired  that  a  gift  of  peculiar  sig- 
nificance was  to  follow  the  congratulations,  to  give 
them  weight,  the  inference  prevailed  that  the  white 
potentate  and  the  black  had  taken  simultaneous 
leave  of  their  fourteen  senses.  For  the  gift  was  a 
pearl  of  price  unparalleled,  picked  aforetime  by 
British  cutlasses  from  a  Polynesian  setting,  and 
presented  by  British  royalty  to  the  sovereign  who 
seized  this  opportunity  of  restoring  it  to  its  origi- 
nal possessor. 

The  incident  would  have  been  a  godsend  to  the 

Press  a  few  weeks  later.    Even  in  June  there  were 

leaders,  letters,  large  headlines,  leaded  type;  the 

Daily  Chronicle  devoting  half  its  literary  page  to 

'  204 


asssiaii 


The  Gift  of  the  Emperor 

a  charming  drawing  of  the  island  capital  which  the 
new  Pall  Mall,  in  a  leading  article  headed  by  a 
pun,  advised  the  Government  to  blow  to  flinders. 
I  was  myself  driving  a  poor  but  not  dishonest  quill 
at  the  time,  and  the  topic  of  the  hour  goaded  me 
into  satiric  verse  which  obtained  a  better  place 
than  anything  I  had  yet  turned  out.  I  had  let  my 
flat  in  town,  and  taken  inexpensive  quarters  at 
Thames  Ditton,  on  the  plea  of  a  disinterested  pas- 
sion for  the  river. 

"First-rate,  old  boy!"  said  Rafiles  (who  must 
needs  come  and  see  me  there),  lying  back  in  the 
boat  while  I  sculled  and  steered.  "I  suppose  they 
pay  you  pretty  well  for  these,  eh?" 

"Not  a  penny." 

"Nonsense,  Bunny!  I  thought  they  paid  so 
well?  Give  them  time,  and  you'll  get  your 
check." 

"Oh,  no,  I  sha'n't,"  said  I  gloomily.  "I've  got 
to  be  content  with  the  honor  of  getting  in;  the 
editor  wrote  to  say  so,  in  so  many  words,"  I  added. 
But  I  gave  the  gentleman  his  distinguished  name. 

"You  don't  mean  tp  say  you've  written  for  pay- 
ment already?" 

No;  it  was  the  last  thing  I  had  intended  to 
admit.  But  I  had  done  It.  The  murder  was  out; 
there  was  no  sense  in  further  concealment.    I  had 

205 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

written  for  my  money  because  I  really  needed  it; 
if  he  must  know,  I  was  cursedly  hard  up.  Raffles 
nodded  as  though  he  knew  already.  I  warmed  to 
my  woes.  It  was  no  easy  matter  to  keep  your  end 
up  as  a  raw  freelance  of  letters;  for  my  part,  I 
was  afraid  I  wrote  neither  well  enough  nor  ill 
enough  for  success.  I  suffered  from  a  persistent 
ineffectual  feeling  after  style.  Verse  I  could  man- 
age; but  it  did  not  pay.  To  personal  paragraphs 
and  the  baser  journalism  I  could  not  and  I  would 
not  stoop. 

Raffles  nodded  again,  this  time  with  a  smile  that 
stayed  in  his  eyes  as  he  leant  back  watching  me. 
I  knew  that  he  was  thinking  of  other  things  I  had 
stooped  to,  and  I  thought  I  knew  what  he  was 
going  to  say.  He  had  said  it  before  so  often;  he 
was  sure  to  say  it  again.  I  had  my  answer  ready, 
but  evidently  he  was  tired  of  asking  the  same  ques- 
tion. His  lids  fell,  he  took  up  the  paper  he  had 
dropped,  and  I  sculled  the  length  of  the  old  red 
wall  of  Hampton  Court  before  he  spoke  again. 

"And  they  gave  you  nothing  for  these!  My 
dear  Bunny,  they're  capital,  not  only  qua  verses 
but  for  crystallizing  your  subject  and  putting  it  in 
a  nutshell.  Certainly  you've  taught  me  more 
about  it  than  I  knew  before.  But  is  it  really  worth 
fifty  thousand  pounds — a  single  pearl?" 

206 


The  Gift  of  the  Emperor 

"A  hundred,  I  believe;  but  that  wouldn't  scan." 

"A  hundred  thousand  pounds !"  said  Raffles, 
with  his  eyes  shut.  And  again  I  made  certain 
what  was  coming,  but  again  I  was  mistaken.  "If 
it's  worth  all  that,"  he  cried  at  last,  "there  would 
be  no  getting  rid  of  it  at  all;  it's  not  like  a  diamond 
that  you  can  subdivide.  But  I  beg  your  pardon, 
Bunny.     I  was  forgetting!" 

And  we  said  no  more  about  the  emperor's  gift; 
for  pride  thrives  on  an  empty  pocket,  and  no  pri- 
vation would  have  drawn  from  me  the  proposal 
which  I  had  expected  Raffles  to  make.  My  ex- 
pectation had  been  half  a  hope,  though  I  only 
knew  it  now.  But  neither  did  we  touch  again  on 
what  Raffles  professed  to  have  forgotten — my 
"apostasy,"  my  "lapse  into  virtue,"  as  he  had  been 
pleased  to  call  it.  We  were  both  a  little  silent, 
a  little  constrained,  each  preoccupied  with  his  own 
thoughts.  It  was  months  since  we  had  met,  and, 
as  I  saw  him  off  towards  eleven  o'clock  that  Sun- 
day night,  I  fancied  it  was  for  more  months  that 
we  were  saying  good-by. 

But  as  we  waited  for  the  train  I  saw  those  clear 
eyes  peering  at  me  under  the  station  lamps, 
and  when  I  met  their  glance  Raffles  shook  his 
head. 

"You  don't  look  well  on  it.  Bunny,"  said  he. 
207 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

"I  never  did  believe  in  this  Thames  Valley.  You 
want  a  change  of  air." 

I  wished  I  might  get  it.  » 

"What  you  really  want  is  a  sea  voyage." 

"And  a  winter  at  St.  Moritz,  or  do  you  recom- 
mend Cannes  or  Cairo?  It's  all  v^ery  well,  A.  J., 
but  you  forget  what  I  told  you  about  my 
funds." 

"I  forget  nothing.  I  merely  don't  want  to  hurt 
your  feelings.  But,  look  here,  a  sea  voyage  you 
shall  have.  I  want  a  change  myself,  and  you  shall 
come  with  me  as  my  guest.  We'll  spend  July  in 
the  Mediterranean." 

"But  you're  playing  cricket " 

"Hang  the  cricket!" 

"Well,  if  I  thought  you  meant  it " 

"Of  course  I  mean  it.     Will  you  come?" 

"Like  a  shot — if  you  go." 

And  I  shook  his  hand,  and  waved  mine  in  fare- 
well, with  the  perfectly  good-humored  conviction 
that  I  should  hear  no  more  of  the  matter.  It  was 
a  passing  thought,  no  more,  no  less.  I  soon 
wished  it  were  more;  that  week  found  me  wishing 
myself  out  of  England  for  good  and  all.  I  was 
making  nothing.  I  could  but  subsist  on  the  dif- 
ference between  the  rent  I  paid  for  my  flat  and  the 
rent  at  which  I  had  sublet  it,  furnished,   for  the 

208 


The  Gift  of  the  Emperor 

season.  And  the  season  was  near  its  end,  and 
creditors  awaited  me  in  town.  Was  it  possible 
to  be  entirely  honest?  I  had  run  no  bills  when  I 
had  money  in  my  pocket,  and  the  more  downright 
dishonesty  seemed  to  me  the  less  ignoble. 

But  from  Raffles,  of  course,  I  heard  nothing 
more;  a  week  went  by,  and  half  another  week; 
then,  late  on  the  second  Wednesday  night,  I  found 
a  telegram  from  him  at  my  lodgings,  after  seek- 
ing him  vainly  in  town,  and  dining  with  despera- 
tion at  the  solitary  club  to  which  I  still  belonged. 

"Arrange  to  leave  Waterloo  by  North  German 
Lloyd  special,"  he  wired,  "9.25  A.  M.  Monday 
next  will  meet  you  Southampton  aboard  Uhlan 
with  tickets  am  writing." 

And  write  he  did,  a  light-hearted  letter  enough, 
but  full  of  serious  solicitude  for  me  and  for  my 
health  and  prospects;  a  letter  almost  touching  in 
the  light  of  our  past  relations,  in  the  twilight  of 
their  complete  rupture.  He  said  that  he  had 
booked  two  berths  to  Naples,  that  we  were  bound 
for  Capri,  which  was  clearly  the  island  of  the 
Lotos-eaters,  that  we  would  bask  there  together, 
"and  for  a  while  forget."  It  was  a  charming  let- 
ter. I  had  never  seen  Italy;  the  privilege  of  initia- 
tion should  be  his.  No  mistake  was  greater  than 
to  deem  it  an  impossible  country  for  the  summer. 

209 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

The  Bay  of  Naples  was  never  so  divine,  and  he 
wrote  of  "faery  lands  forlorn,"  as  though  the 
poetry  sprang  unbidden  to  his  pen.  To  come  back 
to  earth  and  prose,  I  might  think  it  unpatriotic  of 
him  to  choose  a  German  boat,  but  on  no  other  line 
did  you  receive  such  attention  and  accommodation 
for  your  money.  There  was  a  hint  of  better  rea- 
sons. Raffles  wrote,  as  he  had  telegraphed,  from 
Bremen;  and  I  gathered  that  the  personal  use  of 
some  little  influence  with  the  authorities  there  had 
resulted  in  a  material  reduction  in  our  fares. 

Imagine  my  excitement  and  delight!  I  man- 
aged to  pay  what  I  owed  at  Thames  DItton,  to 
squeeze  a  small  editor  for  a  very  small  check,  and 
my  tailors  for  one  more  flannel  suit.  I  remember 
that  I  broke  my  last  sovereign  to  get  a  box  of  Sul- 
livan's cigarettes  for  Raffles  to  smoke  on  the  voy- 
age. But  my  heart  was  as  light  as  my  purse  on 
the  Monday  morning,  the  fairest  morning  of  an 
unfair  summer,  when  the  special  whirled  me 
through  the  sunshine  to  the  sea. 

A  tender  awaited  us  at  Southampton.  Raffles 
was  not  on  board,  nor  did  I  really  look  for  him 
till  we  reached  the  liner's  side.  And  then  I  looked 
In  vain.  His  face  was  not  among  the  many  that 
fringed  the  rail;  his  hand  was  not  of  the  few  that 
waved  to  friends.     I  climbed  aboard  In  a  sudden 

210 


The  Gift  of  the  Emperor 

heaviness.  I  had  no  ticket,  nor  the  money  to  pay 
for  one.  I  did  not  even  know  the  number  of  my 
room.  My  heart  was  in  my  mouth  as  I  waylaid  a 
steward  and  asked  if  a  Mr.  Raffles  was  on  board. 
Thank  heaven — he  was!  But  where?  The  man 
did  not  know,  was  plainly  on  some  other  errand, 
and  a-hunting  I  must  go.  But  there  was  no  sign 
of  him  on  the  promenade  deck,  and  none  below 
in  the  saloon;  the  smoking-room  was  empty  but 
for  a  little  German  with  a  red  moustache  twisted 
into  his  eyes;  nor  was  Raffles  in  his  own  cabin, 
whither  I  inquired  my  way  in  desperation,  but 
where  the  sight  of  his  own  name  on  the  baggage 
was  certainly  a  further  reassurance.  Why  he  him- 
self kept  in  the  background,  however,  I  could  not 
conceive,  and  only  sinister  reasons  would  suggest 
themselves  in  explanation. 

"So  there  you  are !  I've  been  looking  for  you 
all  over  the  ship !" 

Despite  the  graven  prohibition,  I  had  tried  the 
bridge  as  a  last  resort;  and  there,  indeed,  was  A. 
J.  Raffles,  seated  on  a  skylight,  and  leaning  over 
one  of  the  officers'  long  chairs,  in  which  reclined 
a  girl  in  a  white  drill  coat  and  skirt — a  slip  of  a 
girl  with  a  pale  skin,  dark  hair,  and  rather  re- 
markable eyes.  So  much  I  noted  as  he  rose  and 
quickly  turned ;  thereupon  I  could  think  of  nothing 

211 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

but  the  swift  grimace  which  preceded  a  start  of 
well-feigned  astonishment. 

"Why BunnyT'    cried     Raffles.       "Where 

have  you  sprung  from?" 

I  stammered  something  as  he  pinched  my  hand. 

"And  are  you  coming  in  this  ship?  And  to 
Naples,  too?  Well,  upon  my  word!  Miss  Wer- 
ner, may  I  introduce  him?" 

And  he  did  so  without  a  blush,  describing  me 
as  an  old  schoolfellow  whom  he  had  not  seen  for 
months,  with  wilful  circumstance  and  gratuitous 
detail  that  filled  me  at  once  with  confusion,  sus- 
picion, and  revolt.  I  felt  myself  blushing  for  us 
both,  and  I  did  not  care.  My  address  utterly 
deserted  me,  and  I  made  no  effort  to  recover  it, 
to  carry  the  thing  off.  All  I  would  do  was  to  mum- 
ble such  words  as  Raffles  actually  put  into  my 
mouth,  and  that  I  doubt  not  with  a  thoroughly 
evil  grace. 

"So  you  saw  my  name  in  the  list  of  passengers 
and  came  in  search  of  me?  Good  old  Bunny;  I 
say,  though,  I  wish  you'd  ^are  my  cabin.  I've 
got  a  beauty  on  the  promenade  deck,  but  they 
wouldn't  promise  to  keep  me  by  myself.  We  ought 
to  see  about  it  before  they  shove  in  some  alien. 
In  any  case  we  shall  have  to  get  out  of  this." 

For  a   quartermaster   had  entered  the  wheel- 

212 


The  Gift  of  the  Emperor 

house,  and  even  while  we  had  been  speaking  the 
pilot  had  taken  possession  of  the  bridge;  as  we  de- 
scended, the  tender  left  us  with  flying  handker- 
chiefs and  shrill  good-bys;  and  as  we  bowed  to 
Miss  Werner  on  the  promenade  deck,  there  came 
a  deep,  slow  throbbing  under- foot,  and  our  voy- 
age had  begun. 

It  did  not  begin  pleasantly  between  Raffles  and 
me.  On  deck  he  had  overborne  my  stubborn  per- 
plexity by  dint  of  a  forced  though  forceful  jovial- 
ity; In  his  cabin  the  gloves  were  off. 

"You  Idiot,"  he  snarled,  "you've  given  me  away 
again!" 

"How  have  I  given  you  away?" 

I  ignored  the  separate  Insult  in  his  last 
word. 

"How?  I  should  have  thought  any  clod  could 
see  that  I  meant  us  to  meet  by  chance!" 

"After  taking  both  tickets  yourself?" 

"They  knew  nothing  about  that  on  board; 
besides,  I  hadn't  decided  when  I  took  the 
tickets." 

"Then  you  should  have  let  me  know  when  you 
did  decide.  You  lay  your  plans,  and  never  say  a 
word,  and  expect  me  to  tumble  to  them  by  light 
of  nature.  How  was  I  to  know  you  had  any- 
thing on?" 

213 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

I  had  turned  the  tables  with  some  effect.  Raffles 
almost  hung  his  head. 

"The  fact  is,  Bunny,  I  didn't  mean  you  to  know. 
You — you've  grown  such  a  pious  rabbit  in  your 
old  age!" 

My  nickname  and  his  tone  went  far  to  mollify 
me,  other  things  went  farther,  but  I  had  much  to 
forgive  him  still. 

"If  you  were  afraid  of  writing,"  I  pursued, 
"it  v/as  your  business  to  give  me  the  tip  the  mo- 
ment I  set  foot  on  board.  I  would  have  taken  it 
all  right.     I  am  not  so  virtuous  as  all  that." 

Was  it  my  imagination,  or  did  Raffles  look 
slightly  ashamed?  If  so,  it  was  for  the  first  and 
last  time  in  all  the  years  I  knew  him;  nor  can  I 
swear  to  it  even  now. 

"That,"  said  he,  "was  the  very  thing  I  meant 
to  do — to  lie  in  wait  in  my  room  and  get  you  as 
you  passed.     But " 

"You  were  better  engaged?" 

"Say  otherwise." 

"The  charming  Miss  Werner?" 

"She  is  quite  charming." 

"Most  Australian  girls  are,"  said  I. 

"How  did  you  know  she  was  one?"  he  cried. 

"I  heard  her  speak." 

"Brute!"  said  Raffles,  laughing;  "she  has  no 
214 


The  Gift  of  the  Emperor 

more  twang  than  you  have.  Her  people  are  Ger- 
man, she  has  been  to  school  in  Dresden,  and  is  on 
her  way  out  alone." 

"Money?"  I  inquired. 

"Confound  you!"  he  said,  and,  though  he  was 
laughing,  I  thought  it  was  a  point  at  which  the 
subject  might  be  changed. 

"Well,"  I  said,  "it  wasn't  for  Miss  Werner 
you  wanted  us  to  play  strangers,  was  it?  You 
have  some  deeper  game  than  that,  eh?" 

"I  suppose  I  have." 

"Then  hadn't  you  better  tell  me  what  it  is?" 

Raffles  treated  me  to  the  old  cautious  scrutiny 
that  I  knew  so  well;  the  very  familiarity  of  it,  after 
all  these  months,  set  me  smiling  in  a  way  that 
might  have  reassured  him;  for  dimly  already  I 
divined  his  enterprise. 

"It  won't  send  you  off  in  the  pilot's  boat, 
Bunny?" 

"Not  quite." 

"Then — you  remember  the  pearl  you  wrote 
the " 

I  did  not  wait  for  him  to  finish  his  sentence. 

"You've  got  it!"  I  cried,  my  face  on  fire,  for  I 
caught  sight  of  it  that  moment  in  the  stateroom 
mirror. 

Raffles  seemed  taken  aback. 
215 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

"Not  yet,"  said  he;  "but  I  mean  to  have  it  be- 
fore we  get  to  Naples." 

"Is  it  on  board?" 

"Yes." 

"But  how — where — who's  got  it?" 

"A  httle  German  officer,  a  whipper-snapper 
with  perpendicular  mustaches." 

"I  saw  him  in  the  smoke-room." 

"That's  the  chap;  he's  always  there.  Herr 
Captain  Wilhelm  von  Heumann,  if  you  look  in 
the  list.  Well,  he's  the  special  envoy  of  the 
emperor,  and  he's  taking  the  pearl  out  with 
him." 

"You  found  this  out  in  Bremen?" 

"No,  in  Berlin,  from  a  newspaper  man  I  know 
there.  I'm  ashamed  to  tell  you,  Bunny,  that  I 
went  there  on  purpose!" 

I  burst  out  laughing. 

"You  needn't  be  ashamed.  You  are  doing  the 
very  thing  I  was  rather  hoping  you  were  going 
to  propose  the  other  day  on  the  river." 

"You  were  hoping  it?"  said  Raffles,  with  his 
eyes  wide  open.  Indeed,  it  was  his  turn  to  show 
surprise,  and  mine  to  be  much  more  ashamed  than 
I  felt. 

"Yes,"  I  answered,  "I  was  quite  keen  on  the 
idea,  but  I  wasn't  going  to  propose  it." 

216 


The  Gift  of  the  Emperor 

"Yet  you  would  have  listened  to  me  the  other 
day?" 

Certainly  I  would,  and  I  told  him  so  without 
reserve;  not  brazenly,  you  understand;  not  even 
now  with  the  gusto  of  a  man  who  savors  such  an 
adventure  for  its  own  sake,  but  doggedly,  defiantly, 
through  my  teeth,  as  one  who  had  tried  to  live 
honestly  and  failed.  And,  while  I  was  about  it, 
I  told  him  much  more.  Eloquently  enough,  I  dare- 
say, I  gave  him  chapter  and  verse  of  my  hopeless 
struggle,  my  inevitable  defeat;  for  hopeless  and 
inevitable  they  were  to  a  man  with  my  record, 
even  though  that  record  was  written  only  in  one's 
own  soul.  It  was  the  old  story  of  the  thief  trying 
to  turn  honest  man ;  the  thing  was  against  nature, 
and  there  was  an  end  of  it. 

Raffles  entirely  disagreed  with  me.  He  shook 
his  head  over  my  conventional  view.  Human 
nature  was  a  board  of  checkers;  why  not  reconcile 
one's  self  to  alternate  black  and  white  ?  Why  de- 
sire to  be  all  one  thing  or  all  the  other,  like  our 
forefathers  on  the  stage  or  in  the  old-fashioned 
fiction?  For  his  part,  he  enjoyed  himself  on  all 
squares  of  the  board,  and  liked  the  light  the  better 
for  the  shade.  My  conclusion  he  considered 
absurd. 

"But  you  err  in  good  company,  Bunny,  for  all 
217 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

the  cheap  moralists  who  preach  the  same  twaddle : 
old  Virgil  was  the  first  and  worst  offender  of  you 
all.  I  back  myself  to  climb  out  of  Avernus  any 
day  I  like,  and  sooner  or  later  I  shall  climb  out  for 
good.  I  suppose  I  can't  very  well  turn  myself  into 
a  Limited  Liability  Company.  But  I  could  retire 
and  settle  down  and  live  blamelessly  ever  after. 
I'm  not  sure  that  it  couldn't  be  done  on  this  pearl 
alone!" 

"Then  you  don't  still  think  it  too  remarkable 
to  sell?" 

"We  might  take  a  fishery  and  haul  it  up  with 
smaller  fry.  It  would  come  after  months  of  ill 
luck,  just  as  we  were  going  to  sell  the  schooner; 
by  Jove,  it  would  be  the  talk  of  the  Pacific!" 

"Well,  we've  got  to  get  it  first.  Is  this  von 
What's-his-name  a  formidable  cuss?" 

"More  so  than  he  looks;  and  he  has  the  cheek 
of  the  devil!" 

As  he  spoke  a  white  drill  skirt  fluttered  past  the 
open  state-room  door,  and  I  caught  a  glimpse  of 
an  upturned  moustache  beyond. 

"But  is  he  the  chap  we  have  to  deal  with  ?  Won't 
the  pearl  be  in  the  purser's  keeping?" 

Raffles  stood  at  the  door,  frowning  out  upon  the 
Solent,  but  for  an  instant  he  turned  to  me  with  a 
sniff. 

218 


The  Gift  of  the  Emperor 

"My  good  fellow,  do  you  suppose  the  whole 
ship's  company  knows  there's  a  gem  like  that 
aboard?  You  said  that  it  was  worth  a  hundred 
thousand  pounds;  in  Berlin  they  say  it's  priceless. 
I  doubt  if  the  skipper  himself  knows  that  von  Heu- 
mann  has  it  on  him." 

"And  he  has?" 

"Must  have." 

"Then  we  have  only  him  to  deal  with?" 

He  answered  me  without  a  word.  Something 
white  was  fluttering  past  once  more,  and  Raffles, 
stepping  forth,  made  the  promenaders  three. 


II 


I  do  not  ask  to  set  foot  aboard  a  finer  steamship 
than  the  Uhlan  of  the  Norddeutscher  Lloyd,  to 
meet  a  kindlier  gentleman  than  her  commander, 
or  better  fellows  than  his  officers.  This  much  at 
least  let  me  have  the  grace  to  admit.  I  hated  the 
voyage.  It  was  no  fault  of  anybody  connected 
with  the  ship ;  it  was  no  fault  of  the  weather,  which 
was  monotonously  ideal.  Not  even  in  my  own 
heart  did  the  reason  reside;  conscience  and  I  were 
divorced  at  last,   and  the  decree  made  absolute. 

219 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

With  my  scruples  had  fled  all  fear,  and  I  was  ready 
to  revel  between  bright  skies  and  sparkling  sea 
with  the  light-hearted  detachment  of  Rafiles  him- 
self. It  was  RafRes  himself  who  prevented  me, 
but  not  Raffles  alone.  It  was  Raffles  and  that 
Colonial  minx  on  her  way  home  from  school. 

What  he  could  see  in  her — but  that  begs  the 
question.  Of  course  he  saw  no  more  than  I  did, 
but  to  annoy  me,  or  perhaps  to  punish  me  for  my 
long  defection,  he  must  turn  his  back  on  me  and 
devote  himself  to  this  chit  from  Southampton  to 
the  Mediterranean.  They  were  always  together. 
It  was  too  absurd.  After  breakfast  they  would 
begin,  and  go  on  until  eleven  or  twelve  at  night; 
there  was  no  intervening  hour  at  which  you  might 
not  hear  her  nasal  laugh,  or  his  quiet  voice  talking 
soft  nonsense  into  her  ear.  Of  course  it  was  non- 
sense! Is  it  conceivable  that  a  man  like  Raffles, 
with  his  knowledge  of  the  world,  and  his  expe- 
rience of  women  (a  side  of  his  character  upon 
which  I  have  purposely  never  touched,  for  it  de- 
serves another  volume)  ;  is  it  credible,  I  ask,  that 
such  a  man  could  find  anything  but  nonsense  to  talk 
by  the  day  together  to  a  giddy  young  schoolgirl? 
I  would  not  be  unfair  for  the  world.  I  think  I 
have  admitted  that  the  young  person  had  points. 
Her  eyes,  I  suppose,  were  really  fine,  and  certainly 

220 


The  Gift  of  the  Emperor 

the  shape  of  the  little  brown  face  was  charming, 
so  far  as  mere  contour  can  charm.  I  admit  also 
more  audacity  than  I  cared  about,  with  enviable 
health,  mettle,  and  vitality,  I  may  not  have  occa- 
sion to  report  any  of  this  young  lady's  speeches 
(they  would  scarcely  bear  it),  and  am  therefore 
the  more  anxious  to  describe  her  without  injustice. 
I  confess  to  some  little  prejudice  against  her.  I 
resented  her  success  with  Raffles,  of  whom,  in  con- 
sequence, I  saw  less  and  less  each  day.  It  is  a 
mean  thing  to  have  to  confess,  but  there  must 
have  been  something  not  unlike  jealousy  rankling 
within  me. 

Jealousy  there  was  in  another  quarter — crude, 
rampant,  undignified  jealousy.  Captain  von  Heu- 
mann  would  twirl  his  mustaches  into  twin  spires, 
shoot  his  white  cuffs  over  his  rings,  and  stare  at 
me  insolently  through  his  rimless  eyeglasses;  we 
ought  to  have  consoled  each  other,  but  we  never 
exchanged  a  syllable.  The  captain  had  a  murder- 
ous scar  across  one  of  his  cheeks,  a  present  from 
Heidelberg,  and  I  used  to  think  how  he  must  long 
to  have  Raffles  there  to  serve  the  same.  It  was  not 
as  though  von  Heumann  never  had  his  innings. 
Raffles  let  him  go  in  several  times  a  day,  for  the 
malicious  pleasure  of  bowling  him  out  as  he  was 
"getting  set" ;  those  were  his  words  when  I  taxed 

221 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

him  disingenuously  with  obnoxious  conduct  to- 
wards a  German  on  a  German  boat. 

"You'll  make  yourself  disliked  on  board !" 

"By  v^on  Huemann  merely." 

"But  is  that  wise  when  he's  the  man  we've  got 
to  diddle?" 

"The  wisest  thing  I  ever  did.  To  have 
chummed  up  with  him  would  have  been  fatal — 
the  common  dodge." 

I  was  consoled,  encouraged,  almost  content.  I 
had  feared  Raffles  was  neglecting  things,  and  I  told 
him  so  in  a  burst.  Here  we  were  near  Gibraltar, 
and  not  a  word  since  the  Solent.  He  shook  his 
head  with  a  smile. 

"Plenty  of  time,  Bunny,  plenty  of  time.  We 
can  do  nothing  before  we  get  to  Genoa,  and  that 
won't  be  till  Sunday  night.  The  voyage  is  still 
young,  and  so  are  we;  let's  make  the  most  of  things 
while  we  can." 

It  was  after  dinner  on  the  promenade  deck,  and 
as  Raffles  spoke  he  glanced  sharply  fore  and  aft, 
leaving  me  next  moment  with  a  step  full  of  pur- 
pose. I  retired  to  the  smoking-room,  to  smoke 
and  read  in  a  corner,  and  to  watch  von  Huemann, 
who  very  soon  came  to  drink  beer  and  to  sulk  in 
another. 

Few  travellers  tempt  the  Red  Sea  at  midsummer; 


The  Gift  of  the  Emperor 

the  Uhlan  was  very  empty  indeed.  She  had,  how- 
ever, but  a  hmited  supply  of  cabins  on  the  prome- 
nade deck,  and  there  was  just  that  excuse  for  my 
sharing  Raffles's  room.  I  could  have  had  one  to 
myself  downstairs,  but  I  must  be  up  above.  Raf- 
fles had  insisted  that  I  should  insist  on  the  point. 
So  we  were  together,  I  think,  without  suspicion, 
though  also  without  any  object  that  I  could  see. 

On  the  Sunday  afternoon  I  was  asleep  in  my 
berth,  the  lower  one,  when  the  curtains  were  shaken 
by  Raffles,  who  was  in  his  shirt-sleeves  on  the 
settee. 

"Achilles  sulking  in  his  bunk!" 

"What  else  is  there  to  do?"  I  asked  him  as 
I  stretched  and  yawned.  I  noted,  however,  the 
good-humor  of  his  tone,  and  did  my  best  to 
catch  It. 

"I  have  found  something  else.  Bunny." 

"I  daresay!" 

"You  misunderstand  me.  The  whipper-snap- 
per's making  his  century  this  afternoon.  I've  had 
other  fish  to  fry." 

I  swung  my  legs  over  the  side  of  my  berth  and 
sat  forward,  as  he  was  sitting,  all  attention.  The 
inner  door,  a  grating,  was  shut  and  bolted,  and 
curtained  like  the  open  porthole. 

"We  shall  be  at  Genoa  before  sunset,"  continued 
223 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

Raffles.    "It's  the  place  where  the  deed's  got  to  be 
done." 

"So  you  still  mean  to  do  It?" 

"Did  I  ever  say  I  didn't?" 

"You  have  said  so  little  either  way." 

"Advisedly  so,  my  dear  Bunny;  why  spoil  a 
pleasure  trip  by  talking  unnecessary  shop?  But 
now  the  time  has  come.  It  must  be  done  at  Genoa 
or  not  at  all." 

"On  land?" 

"No,  on  board,  to-morrow  night.  To-night 
would  do,  but  to-morrow  Is  better,  in  case  of  mis- 
hap. If  we  were  forced  to  use  violence  we  could 
get  away  by  the  earliest  train,  and  nothing  be 
known  till  the  ship  was  sailing  and  von  Heumann 
found  dead  or  drugged " 

"Not  dead!"  I  exclaimed. 

"Of  course  not,"  assented  Raffles,  "or  there 
would  be  no  need  for  us  to  bolt;  but  If  we  should 
have  to  bolt,  Tuesday  morning  Is  our  time,  when 
this  ship  has  got  to  sail,  whatever  happens.  But 
I  don't  anticipate  any  violence.  Violence  is  a  con- 
fession of  terrible  incompetence.  In  all  these  years 
how  many  blows  have  you  known  me  to  strike? 
Not  one,  I  believe;  but  I  have  been  quite  ready  to 
kill  my  man  every  time.  If  the  worst  came  to  the 
worst." 

224 


The  Gift  of  the  Emperor 

I  asked  him  how  he  proposed  to  enter  von  Heu- 
mann's  state-room  unobserved,  and  even  through 
the  curtained  gloom  of  ours  his  face  lighted  up. 

"Climb  into  my  bunk,  Bunny,  and  you  shall 
see." 

I  did  so,  but  could  see  nothing.  Raffles  reached 
across  me  and  tapped  the  ventilator,  a  sort  of  trap- 
door in  the  wall  abov^e  his  bed,  some  eighteen  inches 
long  and  half  that  height.  It  opened  outwards 
into  the  ventilating  shaft. 

"That,"  said  he,  "is  our  door  to  fortune.  Open 
it  if  you  like;  you  won't  see  much,  because  it 
doesn't  open  far;  but  loosening  a  couple  of  screws 
will  set  that  all  right.  The  shaft,  as  you  may  see, 
is  more  or  less  bottomless;  you  pass  under  it  when- 
ever you  go  to  your  bath,  and  the  top  is  a  skylight 
on  the  bridge.  That's  why  this  thing  has  to  be 
done  while  we're  at  Genoa,  because  they  keep  no 
watch  on  the  bridge  in  port.  The  ventilator  oppo- 
site ours  is  von  Huemann's.  It  again  will  only 
mean  a  couple  of  screws,  and  there's  a  beam  to 
stand  on  while  you  work." 

"But  if  anybody  should  look  up  from  below?" 

"It's  extremely  unlikely  that  anybody  will  be 
astir  below,  so  unlikely  that  we  can  afford  to  chance 
it.  No,  I  can't  have  you  there  to  make  sure.  The 
great  point  is  that  neither  of  us  should  be  seen  from 

225 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

the  time  we  turn  In.  A  couple  of  ship's  boys  do 
sentn-go  on  these  decks,  and  they  shall  be  our 
witnesses;  by  Jove,  it'll  be  the  biggest  mystery  that 
ever  was  made !" 

"If  von  Heumann  doesn't  resist." 

"Resist!  He  won't  get  the  chance.  He  drinks 
too  much  beer  to  sleep  light,  and  nothing  is  so 
easy  as  to  chloroform  a  heavy  sleeper;  you've  even 
done  it  yourself  on  an  occasion  of  which  it's  per-  ! 

haps  unfair  to  remind  you.  Von  Heumann  will  be 
past  sensation  almost  as  soon  as  I  get  my  hand 
through  his  ventilator.  I  shall  crawl  in  over  his 
body.  Bunny,  my  boy!" 

"And  I?" 

You  will  hand  me  what  I  want  and  hold  the 
fort  in  case  of  accidents,  and  generally  lend  me  the 
moral  support  you've  made  me  require.  It's  a 
luxury.  Bunny,  but  I  found  it  devilish  difficult  to 
do  without  it  after  you  turned  pi!" 

He  said  that  Von  Heumann  was  certain  to  sleep 
with  a  bolted  door,  which  he,  of  course,  would 
leave  unbolted,  and  spoke  of  other  ways  of  laying 
a  false  scent  while  rifling  the  cabin.  Not  that 
Raffles  anticipated  a  tiresome  search.  The  pearl 
would  be  about  von  Huemann's  person;  in  fact. 
Raffles  knew  exactly  where  and  in  what  he  kept  it. 
Naturally  I  asked  how  he  could  have  come  by 

226 


The  Gift  of  the  Emperor 

such  knowledge,  and  his  answer  led  up  to  a  mo- 
mentary unpleasantness. 

"It's  a  very  old  story,  Bunny.  I  really  forget 
in  what  Book  it  comes ;  I'm  only  sure  of  the  Testa- 
ment, But  Samson  was  the  unlucky  hero,  and  one 
Delilah  the  heroine." 

And  he  looked  so  knowing  that  I  could  not  be 
in  a  moment's  doubt  as  to  his  meaning. 

"So  the  fair  Australian  has  been  playing  Deli- 
lah?" said  I. 

"In  a  very  harmless,  innocent  sort  of  way." 

"She  got  his  mission  out  of  him?" 

"Yes,  I've  forced  him  to  score  all  the  points  he 
could,  and  that  was  his  great  stroke,  as  I  hoped  it 
would  be.    He  has  even  shown  Amy  the  pearl." 

"Amy,  eh!  and  she  promptly  told  you?" 

"Nothing  of  the  kind.  What  makes  you  think 
so?  I  had  the  greatest  trouble  In  getting  it  out 
of  her." 

His  tone  should  have  been  a  sufficient  warning 
to  me.  I  had  not  the  tact  to  take  It  as  such.  At 
last  I  knew  the  meaning  of  his  furious  flirtation, 
and  stood  wagging  my  head  and  shaking  my  finger, 
blinded  to  his  frowns  by  my  own  enlightenment. 

"Wily  worm !"  said  I.  "Now  I  see  through  it 
all;  how  dense  I've  been!" 

"Sure  you're  not  still?" 
227 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

"No;  now  I  understand  what  has  beaten  me  all 
the  week.  I  simply  couldn't  fathom  what  you  saw 
in  that  little  girl.  I  never  dreamt  it  was  part  of 
the  game." 

"So  you  think  it  was  that  and  nothing  more?" 

"You  deep  old  dog — of  course  I  do!" 

"You  didn't  know  she  was  the  daughter  of  a 
wealthy  squatter?" 

"There  are  wealthy  women  by  the  dozen  who 
would  marry  you  to-morrow." 

"It  doesn't  occur  to  you  that  I  might  like  to 
draw  stumps,  start  clean,  and  live  happily  ever 
after — in  the  bush?" 

"With  that  voice?    It  certainly  does  not!" 

"Bunny!"  he  cried,  so  fiercely  that  I  braced  my- 
self for  a  blow. 

But  no  more  followed. 

"Do  you  think  you  would  live  happily?"  I  made 
bold  to  ask  him. 

"God  knows!"  he  answered.  And  with  that  he 
left  me,  to  marvel  at  his  look  and  tone,  and,  more 
than  ever,  at  the  insufficiently  exciting  cause. 


228 


The  Gift  of  the  Emperor 


III 


Of  all  the  mere  feats  of  cracksmanship  which  I 
have  seen  Raffles  perform,  at  once  the  most  deli- 
cate and  most  difficult  was  that  which  he  accom- 
plished between  one  and  two  o'clock  on  the  Tues- 
day morning,  aboard  the  North  German  steamer 
Uhlan,  lying  at  anchor  in  Genoa  harbor. 

Not  a  hitch  occurred.  Everything  had  been 
foreseen;  everything  happened  as  I  had  been  as- 
sured everything  must.  Nobody  was  about  below, 
only  the  ship's  boys  on  deck,  and  nobody  on  the 
bridge.  It  was  twenty-five  minutes  past  one  when 
Raffles,  without  a  stitch  of  clothing  on  his  body, 
but  with  a  glass  phial,  corked  with  cotton-wool, 
between  his  teeth,  and  a  tiny  screw-driver  behind 
his  ear,  squirmed  feet  first  through  the  ventilator 
over  his  berth ;  and  it  was  nineteen  minutes  to  two 
when  he  returned,  head  first,  with  the  phial  still 
between  his  teeth,  and  the  cotton-wool  rammed 
home  to  still  the  rattling  of  that  which  lay  like  a 
great  gray  bean  within.  He  had  taken  screws  out 
and  put  them  in  again ;  he  had  unfastened  von  Heu- 
mann's  ventilator  and  had  left  it  fast  as'he  had 
found  it — fast  as  he  Instantly  proceeded  to  make 
his  own.    As  for  von  Heumann,  it  had  been  enough 

229 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

to  place  the  drenched  wad  first  on  his  mustache, 
and  then  to  hold  it  between  his  gaping  lips;  there- 
after the  intruder  had  climbed  both  ways  across  his 
shins  without  eliciting  a  groan. 

And  here  was  the  prize — this  pearl  as  large  as  a 
filbert — with  a  pale  pink  tinge  like  a  lady's  finger- 
nail— this  spoil  of  a  filibustering  age — this  gift 
from  a  European  emperor  to  a  South  Sea  chief. 
We  gloated  over  it  when  all  was  snug.  We  toasted 
it  in  whiskey  and  soda-water  laid  in  overnight  in 
view  of  the  great  moment.  But  the  moment  was 
greater,  more  triumphant,  than  our  most  sanguine 
dreams.  All  we  had  now  to  do  was  to  secrete  the 
gem  (which  Raffles  had  prised  from  its  setting, 
replacing  the  latter),  so  that  we  could  stand  the 
strictest  search  and  yet  take  it  ashore  with  us  at 
Naples;  and  this  Raffles  was  doing  when  I  turned 
in.  I  myself  would  have  landed  incontinently,  that 
night,  at  Genoa  and  bolted  with  the  spoil;  he  would 
not  hear  of  it,  for  a  dozen  good  reasons  which  will 
be  obvious. 

On  the  whole  I  do  not  think  that  anything  was 
discovered  or  suspected  before  we  weighed  anchor; 
but  I  cannot  be  sure.  It  is  difficult  to  believe  that 
a  man  could  be  chloroformed  in  his  sleep  and  feel 
no  tell-tale  effects,  sniff  no  suspicious  odor,  in  the 
morning.    Nevertheless,  von  Heumann  reappeared 

230 


The  Gift  of  the  Emperor 

as  though  nothing  had  happened  to  him,  his  Ger- 
man cap  over  his  eyes  and  his  mustaches  brushing 
the  peak.  And  by  ten  o'clock  we  were  quit  of 
Genoa;  the  last  lean,  blue-chinned  official  had  left 
our  decks;  the  last  fruitseller  had  been  beaten  off 
with  bucketsful  of  water  and  left  cursing  us  from 
his  boat;  the  last  passenger  had  come  aboard  at 
the  last  moment — a  fussy  graybeard  who  kept  the 
big  ship  waiting  while  he  haggled  with  his  boat- 
man over  half  a  lira.  But  at  length  we  were 
off,  the  tug  was  shed,  the  lighthouse  passed, 
and  Raffles  and  I  leaned  together  over  the 
rail,  watching  our  shadows  on  the  pale  green, 
liquid,  veined  marble  that  again  washed  the 
vessel's    side. 

Von  Heumann  was  having  his  innings  once 
more ;  it  was  part  of  the  design  that  he  should  re- 
main in  all  day,  and  so  postpone  the  inevitable 
hour;  and,  though  the  lady  looked  bored,  and  was 
for  ever  glancing  in  our  direction,  he  seemed  only 
too  willing  to  avail  himself  of  his  opportunities. 
But  Raffles  was  moody  and  ill-at-ease.  He  had 
not  the  air  of  a  successful  man.  I  could  but  opine 
that  the  impending  parting  at  Naples  sat  heavily 
on  his  spirit. 

He  would  neither  talk  to  me,  nor  would  he  let 
me  go. 

231 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

"Stop  where  you  are,  Bunny.  I've  things  to  tell 
you.     Can  you  swim?" 

"A  bit."' 

"Ten  miles?" 

"Ten?"  I  burst  out  laughing.  "Not  one  !  Why 
do  you  ask?" 

"We  shall  be  within  a  ten  miles'  swim  of  the 
shore  n70st  of  the  day." 

"What  on  earth  are  you  driving  at,  Raffles?" 

"Nothing;  only  I  shall  swim  for  it  if  the  worst 
comes  to  the  worst.  I  suppose  you  can't  swim  un- 
der water  at  all?" 

I  did  not  ansv/er  his  question.  I  scarcely  heard 
it:  cold  beads  were  bursting  through  my  skin. 

"Why  should  the  worst  come  to  the  worst?"  I 
whispered.     "We  aren't  found  out,  are  we?" 

"No." 

"Then  why  speak  as  though  we  were?" 

"We  may  be ;  an  old  enemy  of  ours  is  on  board." 

"An  old  enemy?" 

"Mackenzie." 

"Never!" 

"The  man  with  the  beard  who  came  aboard 
last." 

"Are  you  sure?" 

"Sure !  I  was  only  sorry  to  see  you  didn't  recog- 
nize him  too." 

232 


The  Gift  of  the  Emperor 

I  took  my  handkerchief  to  my  face;  now  that  I 
thought  of  it,  there  had  been  something  famihar 
in  the  old  man's  gait,  as  well  as  something  rather 
youthful  for  his  apparent  years;  his  very  beard 
seemed  unconvincing,  now  that  I  recalled  it  in  the 
light  of  this  horrible  revelation.  I  looked  up  and 
down  the  deck,  but  the  old  man  was  nowhere  to  be 
seen. 

"That's  the  worst  of  it,"  said  Raffles.  "I  saw 
him  go  into  the  captain's  cabin  twentyminutes  ago." 

"But  what  can  have  brought  him?"  I  cried  mis- 
erably. "Can  it  be  a  coincidence — Is  it  somebody 
else  he's  after?" 

Raffles  shook  his  head. 

"Hardly  this  time." 

"Then  you  think  he's  after  you?" 

"I've  been  afraid  of  it  for  some  weeks." 

"Yet  there  you  stand!" 

"What  am  I  to  do  ?  I  don't  want  to  swim  for  it 
before  I  must.  I  begin  to  wish  I'd  taken  your 
advice.  Bunny,  and  left  the  ship  at  Genoa.  But 
I've  not  the  smallest  doubt  that  Mac  was  watching 
both  ship  and  station  till  the  last  moment.  That's 
why  he  ran  it  so  fine." 

He  took  a  cigarette  and  handed  me  the  case, 
but  I  shook  my  head  impatiently. 

"I  still  don't  understand,"  said  I.  "Why  should 
233 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

he  be  after  you?  He  couldn't  come  all  this  way 
about  a  jewel  which  was  perfectly  safe  for  all  he 
knew.     What's  your  own  theory?" 

"Simply  that  he's  been  on  my  track  for  some 
time,  probably  ever  since  friend  Crawshay  slipped 
clean  through  his  fingers  last  November.  There 
have  been  other  indications.  I  am  really  not  un- 
prepared for  this.  But  it  can  only  be  pure  suspi- 
cion. I'll  defy  him  to  bring  anything  home,  and 
I'll  defy  him  to  find  the  pearl !  Theory,  my  dear 
Bunny?  I  know  how  he's  got  here  as  well  as 
though  I'd  been  inside  that  Scotchman's  skin,  and 
I  know  what  he'll  do  next.  He  found  out  I'd  gone 
abroad,  and  looked  for  a  motive;  he  found  out 
about  von  Heumann  and  his  mission,  and  there  was 
his  motive  cut-and-dried.  Great  chance — to  nab 
me  on  a  new  job  altogether.  But  he  won't  do  it. 
Bunny;  mark  my  words,  he'll  search  the  ship  and 
search  us  all,  when  the  loss  is  known;  but  he'll 
search  in  vain.  And  there's  the  skipper  beckoning 
the  whipper-snapper  to  his  cabin:  the  fat  will  be 
in  the  fire  in  five  minutes !" 

Yet  there  was  no  conflagration,  no  fuss,  no 
searching  of  the  passengers,  no  whisper  of  what 
had  happened  in  the  air;  instead  of  a  stir  there  was 
portentous  peace;  and  it  was  clear  to  me  that  Raf- 
fles was  not  a  little  disturbed  at  the  falsification  of 

234 


The  Gift  of  the  Emperor 

all  his  predictions.  There  was  something  sinister 
in  silence  under  such  a  loss,  and  the  silence  was 
sustained  for  hours  during  which  Mackenzie  never 
reappeared.  But  he  was  abroad  during  the  lunch- 
eon-hour— he  was  in  our  cabin !  I  had  left  my 
book  in  Raffles's  berth,  and  in  taking  it  after  lunch 
I  touched  the  quilt.  It  was  warm  from  the  recent 
pressure  of  flesh  and  blood,  and  on  an  instinct  I 
sprang  to  the  ventilator;  as  I  opened  it  the  venti- 
lator opposite  was  closed  with  a  snap. 

I  waylaid  Raffles.  "All  right!  Let  him  find 
the  pearl." 

"Have  you  dumped  it  overboard?" 

"That's  a  question  I  shan't  condescend  to  an- 
swer." 

He  turned  on  his  heel,  and  at  subsequent  inter- 
vals I  saw  him  making  the  most  of  his  last  after- 
noon with  the  inevitable  Miss  Werner.  I  remem- 
ber that  she  looked  both  cool  and  smart  in  quite  a 
simple  affair  of  brown  holland,  which  toned  well 
with  her  complexion,  and  was  cleverly  relieved 
with  touches  of  scarlet.  I  quite  admired  her  that 
afternoon,  for  her  eyes  were  really  very  good,  and 
so  were  her  teeth,  yet  I  had  never  admired  her  more 
directly  in  my  own  despite.  For  I  passed  them 
again  and  again  in  order  to  get  a  word  with  Raffles, 
to  tell  him  I  knew  there  was  danger  in  the  wind; 

235 


The.  Amateur  Cracksman 

but  he  would  not  so  much  as  catch  my  eye.  So  at 
last  I  gave  it  up.  And  I  saw  him  next  in  the  cap- 
tain's cabin. 

They  had  summoned  him  first;  he  had  gone  in 
smiling;  and  smiling  I  found  him  when  they  sum- 
moned me.  The  state-room  was  spacious,  as  be- 
fitted that  of  a  commander.  Mackenzie  sat  on  the 
settee,  his  beard  in  front  of  him  on  the  polished 
table;  but  a  revolver  lay  in  front  of  the  captain; 
and,  when  I  had  entered,  the  chief  officer,  who  had 
summoned  me,  shut  the  door  and  put  his  back  to  it. 
Von  Heumann  completed  the  party,  his  fingers 
busy  with  his  mustache. 

Raffles  greeted  me. 

"This  is  a  great  joke!"  he  cried.  "You  remem- 
ber the  pearl  you  were  so  keen  about,  Bunny,  the 
emperor's  pearl,  the  pearl  money  wouldn't  buy? 
It  seems  it  was  entrusted  to  our  little  friend  here, 
to  take  out  to  Canoodle  Dum,  and  the  poor  little 
chap's  gone  and  lost  it;  ergo,  as  we're  Britishers, 
they  think  we've  got  it!" 

"But  I  know  ye  have,"  put  in  Mackenzie,  nod- 
ding to  his  beard. 

"You  will  recognize  that  loyal  and  patriotic 
voice,"  said  Raffles.  "Mon,  'tis  our  auld  acquaint- 
ance Mackenzie,  o'  Scoteland  Yarrd  an'  Scoteland 
itsel' !" 

236 


The  Gift  of  the  Emperor 

"Dat  is  enough,"  cried  the  captain.  "Have  you 
submid  to  be  searge,  or  do  I  vorce  you?" 

"What  you  will,"  said  Raffles,  "but  It  will  do 
you  no  harm  to  give  us  fair  play  first.  You  accuse 
us  of  breaking  into  Captain  von  Heumann's  state- 
room during  the  small  hours  of  this  morning,  and 
abstracting  from  it  this  confounded  pearl.  Well, 
I  can  prove  that  I  was  in  my  own  room  all  night 
long,  and  I  have  no  doubt  my  friend  can  prove  the 
same." 

"Most  certainly  I  can,"  said  I  indignantly. 
"The  ship's  boys  can  bear  witness  to  that." 

Mackenzie  laughed,  and  shook  his  head  at  his 
reflection  in  the  polished  mahogany. 

"That  was  ver  clever,"  said  he,  "and  like 
enough  it  would  ha'  served  ye  had  I  not  stepped 
aboard.  But  Fve  just  had  a  look  at  they  ventila- 
tors, and  I  think  I  know  how  ye  worrked  it.  Any- 
way, captain,  it  makes  no  matter.  I'll  just  be 
clappin'  the  darbies  on  these  young  sparks,  an' 
then " 

"By  what  right?"  roared  Raffles,  in  a  ringing 
voice,  and  I  never  saw  his  face  in  such  a  blaze. 
"Search  us  if  you  like;  search  every  scrap  and 
stitch  we  possess;  but  you  dare  to  lay  a  finger  on 
us  without  a  warrant!" 

"I  wouldna'  dare,"  said  Mackenzie,  as  he  fum- 
'2Z7 


I    -M  ■  II*  1  ■■    ■   ^ 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

bled  in  his  breast  pocket,  and  Raffles  dived  his  hand 
into  his  own.  "Haud  his  wrist!"  shouted  the 
Scotchman;  and  the  huge  Colt  that  had  been  with 
us  many  a  night,  but  had  never  been  fired  in  my 
hearing,  clattered  on  the  table  and  was  raked  in 
by  the  captain. 

"All  right,"  said  Raffles  savagely  to  the  mate. 
"You  can  let  go  now.  I  won't  try  it  again.  Now, 
Mackenzie,  let's  see  your  warrant!" 

"Ye'll  no  mishandle  it?" 

"What  good  would  that  do  me?  Let  me  see 
it,"  said  Raffles,  peremptorily,  and  the  detective 
obeyed.  Raffles  raised  his  eyebrows  as  he  perused 
the  document;  his  mouth  hardened,  but  suddenly 
relaxed;  and  it  was  with  a  smile  and  a  shrug  that 
he  returned  the  paper. 

"Wull  that  do  for  ye?"  inquired  Mackenzie. 

"It  may.  I  congratulate  you,  Mackenzie;  it's  a 
strong  hand,  at  any  rate.  Two  burglaries  and  the 
Melrose  necklace,  Bunny!"  And  he  turned  to  me 
with  a  rueful  smile. 

"An'  all  easy  to  prove,"  said  the  Scotchman, 
pocketing  the  warrant.  "I've  one  o'  these  for 
you,"  he  added,  nodding  to  me,  "only  not  such  a 
long  one." 

"To  think,"  said  the  captain  reproachfully, 
"that  my  shib  should  be  made  a  den  of  thiefs!     It 

238     • 


The  Gift  of  the  Emperor 

shall  be  a  very  disagreeable  madder,  I  have  been 
obliged  to  pud  you  both  in  irons  until  we  get  to 
Nables." 

"Surely  not!"  exclaimed  Raffles.  "Mackenzie, 
intercede  with  him;  don't  give  your  countrymen 
away  before  all  hands!  Captain,  we  can't  escape; 
surely  you  could  hush  it  up  for  the  night?  Look 
here,  here's  everything  I  have  in  my  pockets;  you 
empty  yours,  too.  Bunny,  and  they  shall  strip  us 
stark  if  they  suspect  we've  weapons  up  our  sleeves. 
All  I  ask  is  that  we  are  allowed  to  get  out  of  this 
without  gyves  upon  our  wrists!" 

"Webbons  you  may  not  have,"  said  the  captain; 
"but  wad  aboud  der  bearl  dat  you  were  sdealing?" 

"You  shall  have  it!"  cried  Raffles.  "You  shall 
have  it  this  minute  if  you  guarantee  no  public  in- 
dignity on  board!" 

"That  I'll  see  to,"  said  Mackenzie,  "as  long  as 
you  behave  yourselves.     There  now,  where  is't?" 

"On  the  table  under  your  nose." 

My  eyes  fell  with  the  rest,  but  no  pearl  was 
there;  only  the  contents  of  our  pockets — our 
w^atches,  pocket-books,  pencils,  penknives,  cigar- 
ette cases — lay  on  the  shiny  table  along  with  the 
revolvers  already  mentioned. 

"Ye're  humbuggin'  us,"  said  Mackenzie. 
"What's  the  use?" 

239 


>.-»ii-j  ■t-aatB'cr  '..»j^J.i^s>gj= 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

"I'm  doing  nothing  of  the  sort,"  laughed  Raf- 
fles.    "I'm  testing  you.    Where's  the  harm  ?" 

"It's  here,  joke  apart?" 

"On  that  table,  by  all  my  gods." 

Mackenzie  opened  the  cigarette  cases  and  shook 
each  particular  cigarette.  Thereupon  Raffles 
prayed  to  be  allowed  to  smoke  one,  and,  when  his 
prayer  was  heard,  observed  that  the  pearl  had  been 
on  the  table  much  longer  than  the  cigarettes.  Mac- 
kenzie promptly  caught  up  the  Colt  and  opened 
the  chamber  in  the  butt. 

"Not  there,  not  there,"  said  Raffles;  "but  you're 
getting  hot.    Try  the  cartridges." 

Mackenzie  emptied  them  into  his  palm,  and 
shook  each  one  at  his  ear  without  result. 

"Oh,  give  them  to  me!" 

And,  in  an  instant.  Raffles  had  found  the  right 
one,  had  bitten  out  the  bullet,  and  placed  the  emper- 
or's pearl  with  a  flourish  in  the  centre  of  the  table. 

"After  that  you  will  perhaps  show  me  such  little 
consideration  as  is  in  your  power.  Captain,  I  have 
been  a  bit  of  a  villain,  as  you  see,  and  as  such  I  am 
ready  and  willing  to  lie  in  irons  all  night  if  you 
deem  it  requisite  for  the  safety  of  the  ship.  All  I 
ask  is  that  you  do  me  one  favor  first." 

"That  shall  debend  on  wad  der  vafour  has 
been." 

240 


The  Gift  of  the  Emperor 

"Captain,  I've  done  a  worse  thing  aboard  your 
ship  than  any  of  you  know.  I  have  become 
engaged  to  be  married,  and  I  want  to  say 
good-by !" 

I  suppose  we  were  all  equally  amazed;  but  the 
only  one  to  express  his  amazement  was  von  Heu- 
mann,  whose  deep-chested  German  oath  was  almost 
his  first  contribution  to  the  proceedings.  He  was 
not  slow  to  follow  it,  however,  with  a  vigorous 
protest  against  the  proposed  farewell;  but  he  was 
overruled,  and  the  masterful  prisoner  had  his  way. 
He  was  to  have  five  minutes  with  the  girl,  while 
the  captain  and  Mackenzie  stood  within  range  (but 
not  earshot),  with  their  revolvers  behind  their 
backs.  As  we  were  moving  from  the  cabin,  in  a 
body,  he  stopped  and  gripped  my  hand. 

"So  I've  let  you  in  at  last.  Bunny — at  last  and 
after  all!  If  you  knew  how  sorry  I  am. 
But  you  won't  get  much — I  don't  see  why  you 
should  get  anything  at  all.  Can  you  forgive  me? 
This  may  be  for  years,  and  it  may  be  for  ever,  you 
know !  You  were  a  good  pal  always  when  it  came 
to  the  scratch;  some  day  or  other  you  mayn't  be 
so  sorry  to  remember  you  were  a  good  pal  at  the 
last!" 

There  was  a  meaning  in  his  eye  that  I  under- 
stood ;  and  my  teeth  were  set,  and  my  nerve  strung 

241 


:7:Tr" 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

ready,  as  I  wrung  that  strong  and  cunning  hand 
for  the  last  time  in  my  life. 

How  that  last  scene  stays  with  me,  and  will  stay 
to  my  death !  How  I  see  every  detail,  every 
shadow  on  the  sunlit  deck!  We  were  among  the 
islands  that  dot  the  course  from  Genoa  to  Naples; 
that  was  Elba  falling  back  on  our  starboard  quar- 
ter, that  purple  patch  with  the  hot  sun  setting  over 
it.  The  captain's  cabin  opened  to  starboard,  and 
the  starboard  promenade  deck,  sheeted  with  sun- 
shine and  scored  with  shadow,  was  deserted,  but 
for  the  group  of  which  I  was  one,  and  for  the  pale, 
slim,  brown  figure  further  aft  with  Raffles.  En- 
gaged? I  could  not  believ^e  it,  cannot  to  this  day. 
Yet  there  they  stood  together,  and  we  did  not  hear 
a  word ;  there  they  stood  out  against  the  sunset,  and 
the  long,  dazzling  highway  of  sunlit  sea  that 
sparkled  from  Elba  to  the  Uhlan's  plates;  and 
their  shadows  reached  almost  to  our  feet. 

Suddenly — an  instant — and  the  thing  was  done 
— a  thing  I  have  never  known  whether  to  admire 
or  to  detest.  He  caught  her — he  kissed  her  before 
us  all — then  flung  her  from  him  so  that  she  almost 
fell.  It  was  that  action  which  foretold  the  next. 
The  mate  sprang  after  him,  and  I  sprang  after  the 
mate. 

Raffles  was  on  the  rail,  but  only  just. 
242 


The  Gift  of  the  Emperor 

"Hold  him,  Bunny!"  he  cried.  ''Hold  him 
tight!" 

And,  as  I  obeyed  that  last  behest  with  all  my 
might,  without  a  thought  of  what  I  was  doing, 
save  that  he  bade  me  do  it,  I  saw  his  hands  shoot 
up  and  his  head  bob  down,  and  his  lithe,  spare  body 
cut  the  sunset  as  cleanly  and  precisely  as  though  he 
had  plunged  at  his  leisure  from  a  diver's  board! 

Of  what  followed  on  deck  I  can  tell  you  nothing, 
for  I  was  not  there.  Nor  can  my  final  punishment, 
my  long  Imprisonment,  my  ev^erlastlng  disgrace, 
concern  or  profit  you,  beyond  the  interest  and  ad- 
vantage to  be  gleaned  from  the  knowledge  that  I 
at  least  had  my  deserts.  But  one  thing  I  must  set 
down,  believe  It  who  will — one  more  thing  only 
and  I  am  done. 

It  was  into  a  second-class  cabin,  on  the  starboard 
side,  that  I  was  promptly  thrust  in  Irons,  and  the 
door  locked  upon  me  as  though  I  were  another 
Raffles.  Meanwhile  a  boat  was  lowered,  and  the 
sea  scoured  to  no  purpose,  as  Is  doubtless  on  record 
elsewhere.  But  either  the  setting  sun,  flashing 
over  the  waves,  must  have  blinded  all  eyes,  or  else 
mine  were  v-Ictims  of  a  strange  illusion. 

For  the  boat  was  back,  the  screw  throbbing,  and 
the  prisoner  peering  through  his  porthole  across 

243 


The  Amateur  Cracksman 

the  sunlit  waters  that  he  believed  had  closed  for 
ever  over  his  comrade's  head.  Suddenly  the  sun 
sank  behind  the  Island  of  Elba,  the  lane  of  dancing 
sunhght  was  instantaneously  quenched  and  swal- 
lowed in  the  trackless  waste,  and  in  the  middle  dis- 
tance, already  miles  astern,  either  my  sight  de- 
ceived me  or  a  black  speck  bobbed  amid  the  gray. 
The  bugle  had  blown  for  dinner:  it  may  well  be 
that  all  save  myself  had  ceased  to  strain  an  eye. 
And  now  I  lost  what  I  had  found,  now  it  rose,  now 
sank,  and  now  I  gave  it  up  utterly.  Yet  anon  it 
would  rise  again,  a  mere  mote  dancing  in  the  dim 
gray  distance,  drifting  towards  a  purple  island, 
beneath  a  fading  western  sky,  streaked  with  dead 
gold  and  cerise.  And  night  fell  before  I  knew 
whether  it  was  a  human  head  or  not. 


THE    END 


244 


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